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ANCIENT     GREECE 


FROM    THE   GERMAN   OF 


ARNOLD    H.    L.    HEEREN. 


By  GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


SECOND   AMERICAN    EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

CHARLES  C.  LITTLE  AND  JAMES  BROWN. 


MDCCCXLII. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1842, 

By  George  Bancroft, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


boston: 

PRINTED    BY    FREEMAN    AND    BOLLES, 
WASHINGTON    STREET. 


Sfacfc 
Annex 


THE  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE 


TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


The  volume  of  which  a  translation  is  here  offered  to  the 
public,  forms  in  the  original  a  portion  of  an  extensive  work, 
entitled,  "  Reflections  on  the  Politics,  Intercourse,  and  Com- 
merce of  the  chief  Nations  of  Antiquity."  Mr.  Heeren  has 
accomplished  his  design  only  with  respect  to  the  nations  of 
Asia  and  Africa.  On  those  of  Europe,  he  has  published 
nothing  further  than  tiie  present  series  of  essays,  which  relate 
solely  to  subjects  connected  with  the  political  institutions  of 
the  Greeks,  and  may  be  regarded  as  an  independent  collection 
of  historical  sketches. 

It  is  on  that  larger  work  that  the  literary  reputation  of  Mr. 
Heeren  primarily  depends.  With  respect  to  the  Asiatic  and 
African  nations,  he  has  discussed  his  subject  in  its  full  extent, 
and  furnishes  a  more  distinct  account  of  their  ancient  condi- 
tion, than  has  perhaps  been  given  by  any  other  writer.  Early 
in  life  he  was  led  to  consider  the  history  of  the  world  as  influ- 
enced by  colonial  establishments  and  commerce  ;  and  the 
results  of  his  investigations,  in  a  department  of  science  to 
which  he  is  enthusiastically  attached,  and  to  which  he  has 
uninterruptedly  devoted  the  most  precious  years  of  a  long  life, 
are  communicated  in  the  elaborate  production  which  we  have 
named. 

In  that  portion  which  relates  to  Asia,  after  considering  the 
character  of  the  continent  itself,  he  first  treats  of  the  Persians, 
giving  a  geographical  and  statistical  account  of  their  ancient 
empire,  their  form  of  government,  the  rights  and  authority  of 


iV  PREFACE. 

their  kings,  the  administration  of  their  provinces,  and  their 
military  resources. 

The  Phoenicians  next  pass  in  review  ;  and  a  sketch  is  given 
of  their  internal  condition  and  government,  their  colonies  and 
foreign  possessions,  their  commerce,  their  manufactures  and 
inland  trade. 

The  country  and  nation  of  the  Babylonians,  and  their  com- 
merce, form  the  next  subjects  of  consideration. 

The  Scythians  are  then  delineated,  and  a  geographical  sur- 
vey of  their  several  tribes  is  naturally  followed  by  an  inquiry 
into  the  commerce  and  intercourse  of  the  nations  which  in- 
habited the  middle  of  Asia. 

In  treating  of  India,  it  was  necessary  to  consider  with  care- 
ful criticism,  the  knowledge  which  still  remains  to  us  of  that 
distant  country,  and  to  collect  such  fragments  of  information 
as  can  be  found  respecting  its  earliest  history,  political  con- 
stitution and  commerce.  The  Indians  are  the  most  remote 
Asiatic  nation  which  had  an  influence  on  the  higher  culture 
of  the  ancient  world,  and  with  tliem  the  division  which  treats 
of  Asia  is  terminated. 

To  the  lover  of  studies  connected  with  antiquity,  the 
history  of  the  African  nations  possesses  the  deepest  interest. 
Beside  the  physical  peculiarities  of  this  singular  part  of  the 
globe,  the  Carthaginians  present  the  most  remarkable  example 
of  the  wealth  and  power  which  a  state  may  acquire  by  com- 
merce alone  ;  and  at  the  same  time,  it  shows  most  forcibly  the 
changes  to  \^]iich  such  a  state  is  exposed,  when  tlie  uncertainty 
of  its  resources  is  increased  by  a  want  of  the  higher  virtues,  of 
valor,  faith,  and  religion.  In  Egypt,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
vast  aiiticiuity  of  its  political  institutions,  the  veil  of  uncertainty 
wliich  hangs  over  its  early  condition,  connected  with  the  mag- 
nificence of  its  monuments,  that  have,  as  it  were,  been  discov- 
ered within  the  recollection  of  our  contemporaries,  all  serve  to 


PREFACE.  V 

render  that  country  a  most  interesting  subject  of  speculation 
and  critical  study. 

The  volume  on  Africa  first  introduces  the  Carthaginians, 
who  had  the  melancholy  fate  of  becoming  famous  only  by 
their  ruin.  Mr.  Heeren  discusses  the  condition  of  their  Afri- 
can territory,  their  foreign  provinces  and  colonies,  their  form 
of  government,  their  revenue,  their  commerce  by  land  and 
by  sea,  their  military  force,  and  lastly  the  decline  and  fall  of 
their  state. 

Before  entering  upon  the  consideration  of  the  Egyptians, 
Mr.  Heeren  ascends  the  Nile,  and  presents  us  with  a  geograph- 
ical sketch  of  the  ^Ethiopian  nations,  an  account  of  the  state 
of  Meroe,  and  of  the  commerce  of  Meroe  and  ^Ethiopia. 

The  Egyptians  are  then  considered.  A  general  view  of 
their  country  and  its  inhabitants,  its  political  condition  and 
its  commerce,  —  these  are  the  topics,  under  which  he  treats 
of  that  most  ancient  people.  The  whole  is  concluded  by  an 
analysis  of  the  monuments  which  yet  remain  of  Egyptian 
Thebes. 

These  are  the  subjects  which  are  discussed  in  the  "  Re- 
flections of  Heeren,"  a  work  which  deservedly  holds  a  high 
rank  among  the  best  historical  productions  of  our  age.  Mr. 
Heeren's  style  is  uniformly  clear,  and  there  are  few  of  his 
countrymen,  wiiose  works  so  readily  admit  of  being  translated. 
We  may  add,  there  are  few  so  uniformly  distinguislied  for 
sound  sense  and  a  rational  and  liberal  metliod  of  studying  the 
monuments  of  antiquity.  He  is  entirely  free  from  any  undue 
fondness  for  philosophical  speculations,  but  recommends  him- 
self by  his  perspicuity,  moderation,  and  flowing  style. 

The  business  of  translating  is  but  an  humble  one  ;  and  yet 
it  may  be  the  surest  method  of  increasing  the  number  of  good 
books  which  are  in  the  hands  of  our  countrymen.  None  can 
be  oflTered  more  directly  interesting  to  them,  than  those  which 


VI  PREFACE. 

relate  to  political  institutions.  Holding  as  we  do  our  destinies 
and  our  national  character  and  prosperity  in  our  own  hands,  it 
becomes  us  to  contemplate  the  revolutions  of  governments  ; 
to  study  human  nature,  as  exhibited  in  its  grandest  features  in 
the  changes  of  nations ;  to  consider  not  only  the  politics  of  the 
present  age,  but  gaining  some  firm  ground,  such  as  history 
points  out,  to  observe  with  careful  attention  the  wrecks  of 
other  institutions  and  otlier  times.  The  present  volume  may 
perhaps  do  something  to  call  public  attention  to  the  merits  and 
true  character  of  the  ancient  Greeks.  The  admirers  of  Grecian 
eloquence  will  find  in  one  of  the  chapters,  an  outline  of  the 
political  career  of  Demosthenes.  His  reputation  is  there  vin- 
dicated from  the  calumnies  that  have  so  long  been  heaped  upon 
one  of  the  noblest,  most  persevering,  most  disinterested  advo- 
cates of  the  cause  of  suffering  liberty. 

The  Translator  hopes  the  work  will  prove  acceptable  to 
scholars  and  tliose  who  have  leisure  for  the  study  of  history  ; 
and  that  it  will  be  received  by  them  as  an  earnest  of  his  desire 
to  do  something,  however  little  it  may  be,  for  the  advancement 
of  learning  in  our  common  country. 
jNoKTiiAMrxo^,  Mass.,  December  18,  1823. 


PREFACE 

TO  THE  SRCO.ND  EDITION. 

Tins  translation,  of  which  two  or  tliree  editions  have  been 
published  in  I'higland,  lias  recently  been  adopted  as  a  text-book 
in  llar\<n(l  College.  Hence  it  became  necessary  to  reprint  it; 
and  ihc  ()i)portunity  has  been  seized  to  revise  it,  and  to  adopt 
the  few  changes  and  additions,  which  were  made  by  Mr. 
Hecrcjn  in  the  latest  edition  of  his  works. 

15osTox,  February  12,  1612. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


General  Preliminary  Remarks        1 

CHAPTER  I. 
Geographical  View  of  Greece 15 

CHAPTER  H. 
Earliest  Condition  of  the  Nation  and  its  Branches       ....       42 

CHAPTER  HI. 
Original  Sources  of  the  Culture  of  the  Greeks 49 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Heroic  Age.     The  Trojan  War 81 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Period  following  the  Heroic  Age.     Emigrations.     Origin 
of  Republican  Forms  of  Government,  and  their  Character  97 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Homer.     The  Epic  Poets 105 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Means  of  Preserving  the  National  Character 122 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Persian  Wars  and  their  Consequences 140 


viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Constitutions  of  the  Grecian  States 155 

CHAPTER  X. 
The  Political  Economy  of  the  Greeks 181 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Judicial  Institutions        21^ 

CHAPTER  Xn. 
The  Army  and  Navy ^^ 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Statesmen  and  Orators "^1 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
The  Sciences  in  Connection  with  the  State 277 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Poetry  and  the  Arts  in  Connection  with  the  State      ....     313 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Causes  of  the  Fall  of  Greece 338 


GENERAL  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


To  the  student  of  the  history  of  man,  there  is  hardly  a 
phenomenon  more  important  in  itself,  or  more  difficult  of 
explanation,  than  the  superiority  of  Europe  over  the  other 
parts  of  our  earth.  Whatever  justice  may  be  rendered 
to  other  lands  and  nations,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the 
noblest  and  best  of  everything,  which  humanity  has  pro- 
duced, sprung  up,  or  at  least  ripened,  on  European  soil. 
In  the  multitude,  variety,  and  beauty  of  their  natural 
productions,  Asia  and  Africa  far  surpass  Europe  ;  but  in 
everything  wliich  is  the  work  of  man,  the  nations  of  Eu- 
rope stand  far  above  those  of  the  other  continents.  It 
was  among  them,  that,  by  making  marriage  the  union  of 
but  one  with  one,  domestic  society  obtained  that  form, 
without  which  the  higher  culture  of  so  many  parts  of  our 
nature  could  never  have  been  attained  ;  and  if  slavery 
and  bondage  were  established  among  them,  they  alone, 
recognising  their  injustice,  abolished  them.  It  was  chiefly 
and  almost  exclusively  among  them,  that  such  constitu- 
tions were  framed,  as  are  suited  to  nations  who  have 
become  conscious  of  their  rights.     If  Asia,  during  all  the 


2  PRELIMINARY   REMARKS. 

changes  in  its  extensive  empires,  does  but  show  the  con- 
tinued reproduction  of  despotism,  it  was  on  European 
soil  that  the  germ  of  political  freedom  unfolded  itself, 
and  mider  the  most  various  forms,  in  so  many  places, 
bore  the  noblest  fruits ;  which  again  were  transplanted 
to  other  parts  of  the  world.  The  simplest  inventions  of 
the  mechanic  arts  may  perhaps  belong  in  part  to  the 
East ;  but  how  have  they  all  been  perfected  by  Europe- 
ans. What  progress  from  the  loom  of  the  Hindoo  to  the 
power-looms  driven  by  steam  ;  from  the  sun-dial  to  the 
chronometer,  which  guides  the  mariner  over  the  ocean  ; 
from  the  bark  canoe  of  the  Mohawk  to  the  British  man- 
of-war.  And  if  we  direct  our  attention  to  those  nobler 
arts,  which,  as  it  were,  raise  human  nature  above  itself, 
what  a  distance  between  the  Jupiter  of  Phidias  and  an 
Indian  idol ;  between  the  Transfiguration  of  Raphael  and 
the  works  of  a  Chinese  painter.  The  East  had  its  an- 
nalists, but  never  produced  a  Tacitus,  or  a  Gibbon  ;  it 
had  its  poets,  but  never  advanced  to  criticism  ;  it  had  its 
sages,  who  not  unfrequently  produced  a  powerful  effect 
on  their  nations  by  means  of  their  doctrines  ;  but  a  Plato 
or  a  Kant  never  ripened  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges  and 
the  Hoangho. 

Nor  can  we  less  admire  that  political  superiority, 
which  the  nations  of  this  small  region,  just  emerging 
from  savage  life,  immediately  established  over  the  ex- 
tensive countries  of  the  large  continents.  The  East 
lias  seen  powerful  conquerors  ;  but  it  was  only  in 
Europe  that  generals  appeared,  who  invented  a  science 
of  war  really  worthy  of  the  name.  Hardly  had  a  king- 
dom in  Macedonia  of  limited  extent  outgrown  its  child- 
hood, before  IMaccdonians  ruled  on  the  Indus  as  on  the 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  3 

Nile.  The  imperial  city  was  the  heiress  of  the  imperial 
nation  ;  Asia  and  Africa  adored  the  Caesars.  Even  in 
the  centuries  of  the  middle  age,  when  the  intellectual 
superiority  of  the  Europeans  seemed  to  have  sunk,  the 
nations  of  the  East  attempted  to  subjugate  them  in  vain. 
The  Mongolians  advanced  into  Silesia ;  nothing  but  the 
wastes  of  Russia  long  remained  in  their  power  :  the 
Arabs  desired  to  overrun  the  West  ;  the  sword  of 
Charles  Martel  compelled  them  to  rest  contented  with 
a  part  of  Spain  ;  and  the  chivalrous  Frank,  under  the 
banner  of  the  cross,  soon  bade  them  defiance  in  their 
own  home.  And  how  did  the  fame  of  Europeans  beam 
over  the  earth,  when,  through  Columbus  and  Vasco  de 
Gama,  the  morning  of  its  fairer  day  began  to  dawn. 
The  new  world  at  once  became  their  prey,  that  it  might 
receive  their  culture,  and  become  their  rival ;  more  than 
a  third  part  of  Asia  submitted  to  the  Russian  sceptre  ; 
merchants  on  the  Thames  and  the  Zuyder  See  seized 
on  the  government  of  India ;  and  if  the  Turks  have 
thus  far  been  successful  in  preserving  the  country  which 
they  have  robbed  from  Europe,  will  it  remain  to  them 
forever  ?  will  it  remain  to  them  long  ?  The  career  of 
conquest  may  have  been  marked  with  severity  and  blood  ; 
the  Europeans  became  not  the  tyrants  only,  but  also  the 
instructers  of  the  world.  The  civilization  of  mankind 
seems  to  be  more  and  more  closely  connected  with  their 
progress  ;  and  if,  in  these  times  of  universal  revolution, 
any  consoling  prospect  for  the  future  is  opened,  is  it  not 
the  triumph  of  European  culture  beyond  the  limits  of 
Europe  ? 

From  whence  proceeds  this  superiority,  this  universal 
sovereignty  of  so  small  a  region  as  Europe  ?    An  impor- 


4  PRELIMINARY   REMARKS. 

tant  truth  presents  itself  at  once.  Not  undisciplined 
strength,  not  the  mere  physical  force  of  the  mass,  —  it 
was  intelligence  which  produced  it ;  and  if  the  military 
science  of  Europeans  founded  their  sovereignty,  it  was 
their  superior  political  science  which  maintained  it.  But 
the  question  which  was  proposed,  remains  still  unan- 
swered ;  for  we  desire  to  know  the  causes  of  this  intel- 
lectual superiority ;  and  why  it  was  in  Europe,  that  the 
faculties  of  human  nature  were  so  much  more  beautifully 
unfolded  ? 

To  such  a  question  no  perfectly  satisfactory  answer 
can  be  given.  The  phenomenon  Is  in  itself  much  too 
rich,  much  too  vast  for  that.  It  will  be  readily  conceded, 
that  it  could  only  be  the  consequence  of  many  cooperating 
causes ;  of  these  several  can  be  enumerated,  and  thus 
afford  some  partial  solution.  But  to  enumerate  them  all 
separately,  and  in  their  united  influences,  could  only  be 
done  by  a  mind,  to  which  it  should  be  granted,  from  a 
higlicr  point  of  view  than  any  to  which  a  mortal  can 
attain,  to  contemplate  the  whole  web  of  the  history  of 
our  race,  and  follow  the  course  and  the  interweaving  of 
the  various  threads. 

Here,  attention  is  drawn  to  one  important  circum- 
stance, of  which  the  cautious  inquirer  almost  fears  to 
estimate  the  value.  Whilst  we  see  the  surface  of  the 
otlier  continents  covered  with  nations  of  different,  and 
almost  always  of  dark  color,  (and,  in  so  far  as  this  deter- 
mines the  race,  of  different  races) ;  the  inhabitantis  of 
Europe  belong  only  to  one  race.  It  has  not,  and  it  never 
had,  any   other  native  inhabitants  than  white  nations.' 


'  'I'hc   fiipscys  are  Torpio-ners  ;  and  it   may  seem  douljlfal  v.-hctlier  the  Lap- 
;inilcr.s  ar(^  to  be  reckoned  to  the  white  or  yellow  raee. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  5 

Is  the  white  man  distinguished  by  greater  natural 
talents  ?  Has  he  by  means  of  them  precedence  over  his 
colored  brethren  ?  This  is  a  question,  which  physiology 
cannot  answer  at  all,  and  which  history  must  answer 
with  timidity.  Who  will  absolutely  deny,  that  the  dif- 
ferences of  organization,  which  attend  on  the  difference 
in  color,  can  have  an  influence  on  the  more  rapid  or 
more  difficult  unfolding  of  the  mind  ?  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  can  demonstrate  this  influence,  without  first 
raising  that  secret  veil,  which  conceals  from  us  the  re- 
ciprocal connexion  between  body  and  mind  ?  And  yet 
we  must  esteem  it  probable  ;  and  how  much  does  this 
probability  increase  in  strength,  if  we  make  inquiries  of 
history  ?  The  great  superiority,  which  the  white  na- 
tions in  all  ages  and  parts  of  the  world  have  possessed,  is 
a  matter  of  fact,  which  cannot  be  done  away  with  by 
denials.  It  may  be  said,  this  was  the  consequence  of 
external  circumstances,  which  favored  them  more.  But 
has  this  always  been  so  ?  And  w^hy  has  it  been  so  ? 
And  further,  why  did  those  darker  nations,  which  rose 
above  the  savage  state,  attain  only  to  a  degree  of  culture 
of  their  own ;  a  degree,  w^hich  was  passed  neither  by 
the  Egyptian  nor  by  the  Mongolian,  neither  by  the 
Chinese  nor  the  Hindoo  ?  And  among  the  colored 
races,  why  did  the  black  remain  behind  the  brown  and 
the  yellow?  If  these  observations  cannot  but  make  us 
inclined  to  attribute  differences  of  capacity  to  the  several 
branches  of  our  race,  they  do  not  on  that  account  prove 
an  absolute  want  of  capacity  in  our  darker  fellow-men, 
nor  must  they  be  urged  as  containing  the  whole  ex- 
planation of  European  superiority.  This,  only,  is  in- 
tended ;    experience   thus    far   seems    to  prove,  that   a 


6  PRELIMINARY   REMARKS. 

greater  facility  in  developing  the  powers  of  mind  be- 
longs to  the  nations  of  a  clear  color ;  but  we  will  wel- 
come the  age,  which  shall  contradict  this  experience, 
and  exhibit  cultivated  nations  of  negroes. 

But  however  high  or  low  this  natural  precedency  of 
the  Europeans  may  be  estimated,  no  one  can  fail  to  ob- 
serve, that  the  physical  qualities  of  this  continent  offer 
peculiar  advantages,  which  may  serve  not  a  little  to 
explain  the  abovementioned  phenomenon. 

Europe  belongs  almost  entirely  to  the  northern  tem- 
perate zone.  Its  most  important  lands  lie  between  the 
fortieth  and  sixtieth  degree  of  north  latitude.  Farther 
to  the  north  nature  gradually  dies  away.  Thus  our 
continent  has  in  no  part  the  luxuriant  fruitfulness  of 
tropic  regions ;  but  also  no  such  ungrateful  climate,  as 
to  make  the  care  for  the  mere  preservation  of  life  exhaust 
the  whole  strength  of  its  inhabitants.  Europe,  except 
where  local  causes  put  obstacles  in  the  w^ay,  is  through- 
out susceptible  of  agriculture.  To  this  it  invites,  or 
rather  compels ;  for  it  is  as  little  adapted  to  the  life  of 
hunters  as  of  herdsmen.  Although  its  inhabitants  have 
at  various  periods  changed  their  places  of  abode,  they 
were  never  nomadic  tribes.  They  emigrated  to  con- 
quer ;  to  make  other  establishments  where  booty  or  better 
lands  attracted  them.  No  European  nation  ever  lived 
in  tents ;  the  well  wooded  plains  offered  in  abundance 
the  materials  for  constructing  those  huts,  which  the  in- 
clement skies  required.  Its  soil  and  climate  were  pecu- 
liarly fitted  to  accustom  men  to  that  regular  industrj^, 
which  is  the  source  of  all  prosperity.  If  Europe  could 
boast  of  but  few  distinguished  products,  perhaps  of  no 
one   wliicli   was  exclusively  its  own,  the  transplantation 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  7 

of  the  choicest  from  distant  regions,  made  it  necessary 
to  cherish  and  to  rear  them.  Thus  art  joined  with  na- 
ture, and  this  union  is  the  mother  of  the  gradual  improve- 
ment of  our  race.  Without  exertion  man  can  never 
enlarge  the  circle  of  his  ideas ;  but  at  the  same  time  his 
mere  preservation  must  not  claim  the  exercise  of  all  his 
faculties.  A  fruitfulness,  sufficient  to  reward  the  pains 
of  culture,  is  spread  almost  equally  over  Europe ;  there 
are  no  vast  tracts  of  perfect  barrenness  ;  no  deserts  like 
those  of  Arabia  and  Africa ;  and  the  steppes,  which 
themselves  are  well  watered,  begin  towards  the  east. 
Mountains  of  a  moderate  elevation  usually  interrupt  the 
plains ;  in  every  direction  there  is  an  agreeable  inter- 
change of  hill  and  valley  ;  and  if  nature  does  not  exhibit 
the  luxurious  pomp  of  the  torrid  zone,  her  awakening  in 
spring  has  charms  which  are  wanting  to  the  splendid 
uniformity  of  tropic  climes. 

It  is  true,  that  a  similar  climate  is  shared  by  a  large 
portion  of  middle  Asia ;  and  it  may  be  asked,  why,  then, 
opposite  results  should  be  exhibited,  where  the  shepherd 
nations  of  Tartary  and  Mongolia,  so  long  as  they  roamed 
in  their  own  countries,  seem  to  have  been  compelled  to 
remain  forever  stationary  ?  But  bv  the  character  of  its 
soil,  by  the  interchange  of  mountains  and  valleys,  by 
the  number  of  its  navigable  rivers,  and  above  all,  by  its 
coasts  on  the  Mediterranean,  Europe  distinguishes  itself 
from  those  regions  so  remarkably,  that  this  similar  tem- 
perature of  the  air,  (which  is  moreover  not  perfectly 
equal  under  equal  degrees  of  latitude,  since  Asia  is 
colder,)  can  afford  no  foundation  for  a  comparison. 

But  can  we  derive  from  this  physical  difference,  those 
moral  advantages,  which   were  produced  by  the  better 


8  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

regulation  of  domestic  society  ?  With  this  begins  in 
some  measure  the  history  of  the  first  cuhure  of  our  conti- 
nent ;  tradition  has  not  forgotten  to  tell,  how  the  founder 
of  the  oldest  colony  among  the  savage  inhabitants  of  At- 
tica, was  also  the  founder  of  regular  marriages  ;  and  who 
has  not  learned  of  Tacitus  the  holy  usage  of  our  German 
ancestors  ?  Is  it  merely  the  character  of  the  climate, 
which  causes  both  sexes  to  ripen  more  gradually,  and  at 
the  same  time  more  nearly  simultaneously,  and  a  cooler 
blood  to  flow  in  the  veins  of  man ;  or  is  a  more  delicate 
sentiment  impressed  upon  the  European,  a  higher  moral 
nobility,  which  determines  the  relation  of  the  two  sexes  ? 
Be  this  as  it  may,  who  does  not  perceive  the  decisive  im- 
portance of  the  fact  ?  Does  not  the  wall  of  division 
which  separates  the  inhabitants  of  the  East  from  those 
of  the  West,  repose  chiefly  on  this  basis  ?  And  can  it 
be  doubted,  that  this  better  domestic  institution  was 
essential  to  the  progress  of  our  political  institutions  ?  For 
we  say  confidently  ;  no  nation,  where  polygamy  was 
established,  has  ever  obtained  a  free  and  well  ordered 
constitution. 

Whether  these  causes  alone,  or  whether  others  be- 
side them  (for  who  will  deny  that  there  may  have  been 
others  r)  procured  for  the  Europeans  their  superiority  ; 
thus  much  is  certain,  that  all  Europe  may  now  boast  of 
this  superiority.  If  the  nations  of  the  South  preceded 
those  of  the  North  ;  if  these  were  still  wandering  in 
their  forests  when  those  had  already  obtained  their  ripe- 
ness, —  they  finally  made  up  for  their  dilatoriness.  Their 
time  also  came  ;  the  time  when  they  could  look  down  on 
their  southern  brethren  with  a  just  consciousness  of  their 
own  worth.     This  leads  us  to  the  important  differences, 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  9 

which  are  peculiar  to  the  North  and  the  South  of  this 
continent. 

A  chain  of  mountains,  which,  though  many  arms  ex- 
tend to  the  North  and  South,  runs  in  its  chief  direction 
from  West  to  East,  the  chain  of  the  Alps,  connected  in 
the  west  with  the  Pyrenees  by  the  mountains  of  Se- 
vennes,  extending  to  the  Carpathian  and  the  Balkan 
towards  the  east  as  far  as  the  shores  of  the  Black  sea, 
divides  this  continent  into  two  very  unequal  parts,  the 
Southern  and  the  Northern.  It  separates  the  three 
peninsulas  which  run  to  the  south,  those  of  the  Pyrenees, 
Italy,  and  Greece,  together  with  the  southern  coast  of 
France  and  Germany,  from  the  great  continent  of  Eu- 
rope, which  stretches  to  the  north  beyond  the  polar  circle. 
This  last,  which  is  by  far  the  larger  half,  contains  almost 
all  the  chief  streams  of  this  continent ;  the  Ebro,  the 
Rhone,  and  the  Po,  of  all  that  flow  into  the  Mediter- 
ranean, are  alone  important  for  navigation.  No  other 
chain  of  mountains  of  our  earth  has  had  such  an  influ- 
ence on  the  history  of  our  race,  as  the  chain  of  the  Alps. 
During  a  long  succession  of  ages,  it  parted,  as  it  were, 
two  worlds  from  each  other  ;  the  fairest  buds  of  civiliza- 
tion had  already  opened  under  the  Grecian  and  Hespe- 
rian skies,  whilst  scattered  tribes  of  barbarians  were  yet 
wandering  in  the  forests  of  the  North.  How  different 
would  have  been  the  whole  history  of  Europe,  had  the 
wall  of  the  Alps,  instead  of  being  near  the  Mediterranean, 
been  removed  to  the  shores  of  the  North  sea?  This 
boundary,  it  is  true,  seems  of  less  moment  in  our  time  ; 
when  the  enterprising  spirit  of  the  European  has  built 
for  itself  a  road  across  the  Alps,  just  as  it  has  found  a 
path  over  the  ocean  ;  but  it  was  of  decisive  importance 

2 


10  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

for  the  age  of  which  we  are  speaking,  for  antiquity.  The 
North  and  South  were  then  physically,  morally,  and 
politically  divided  ;  that  chain  long  remained  the  protect- 
ing bulwark  of  the  one  against  the  other  ;  and  if  Caesar, 
finally  breaking  over  these  boundaries,  removed  in  some 
measure  the  political  landmarks,  the  distinction  still  con- 
tinues apparent  between  the  Roman  part  of  Europe,  and 
that  which  never  yielded  to  the  Romans. 

It  is  therefore  only  the  southern  part  of  our  hemisphere, 
which  can  employ  us  in  our  present  inquiries.  Its  limited 
extent,  which  seemed  to  afford  no  room  for  powerful 
nations,  was  amply  compensated  by  its  climate  and  situ- 
ation. What  traveller  from  the  North  ever  descended 
the  southern  side  of  the  Alps  without  being  excited  by 
the  view  of  the  novel  scenery  that  surrounded  him  ?  The 
more  beautiful  blue  of  the  Italian  and  Grecian  sky,  the 
milder  air,  the  more  graceful  forms  of  the  mountains,  the 
pomp  of  the  rocky  shores  and  the  islands,  the  dark  tints 
of  the  forests  glittering  with  golden  fruits — do  these  exist 
merely  in  the  songs  of  the  poets  ?  Although  the  tropic 
climes  are  still  distant,  a  feeling  of  their  existence  is 
awakened  even  here.  The  aloe  grows  wild  in  Lower 
Italy  ;  the  sugar-cane  thrives  in  Sicily ;  from  the  top  of 
JFAira,  tlie  eye  can  discern  the  rocks  of  Malta,  where  the 
fruit  of  the  palm-tree  ripens,  and  in  the  azure  distance, 
even  the  coasts  of  neighboring  Africa.^  Here  nature 
never  ]);u-takes  of  the  uniformity,  which  so  long  repressed 
tlie  sphit  of  the  natives  in  the  forests  and  plains  of  the 
North.  In  all  these  countries  there  is  a  constant  inter- 
cliange  of  moderately  elevated  mountains  with  pleasant 
valleys  and  level  lands,  over  which  Pomona  has  scattered 

'  Barter^  Kuise  durch  Siciliea.     B.  II.  p.  333  —  340. 


•  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  11 

her  choicest  blessings.  The  limited  extent  of  the  coun- 
tries allows  no  large  navigable  rivers  ;  but  what  an  in- 
demnification for  this  is  found  in  its  extensive  and  richly 
indented  coasts.  The  Mediterranean  sea  belongs  to  the 
South  of  Europe ;  and  it  was  by  means  of  that  sea,  that 
the  nations  of  the  West  were  formed.  Let  an  extensive 
heath  occupy  its  place,  and  we  should  yet  be  wandering 
Tartars  and  Mongolians,  like  the  nomades  of  middle 
Asia. 

Of  the  nations  of  the  South,  only  three  can  engage 
our  attention ;  the  Greeks,  Macedonians,  and  Romans, 
the  masters  of  Italy  and  then  of  the  world.  We  have 
named  them  in  the  order  in  which  history  presents  them 
as  prominent,  although  distinguished  in  different  ways. 
We  shall  follow  the  same  order  in  treating  of  them. 


GREECE. 


GREECE. 


CHAPTER  I. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE. 

Were  any  one,  who  is  entirely  unacquainted  with  the 
history  of  the  Greeks,  to  examine  the  map  with  atten- 
tive eye,  he  could  hardly  remain  in  doubt  that  their 
country,  in  point  of  situation,  is  favored  by  nature  be- 
yond any  other  in  Europe.  It  is  the  most  southern 
of  that  continent.  The  promontory  of  Ta;narium,  in 
which  it  terminates,  lies  under  almost  the  same  degree 
of  latitude  with  the  celebrated  rock  of  Calpe  ;  and 
its  northern  boundary  falls  somewhat  to  the  south  of 
Madrid.  In  this  manner  it  extends  from  that  prom- 
ontory to  Olympus  and  the  Cambunian  mountains, 
which  divide  it  from  Macedonia,  about  two  hundred 
and  twenty-live  miles  from  south  to  north. ^  Its  east- 
ern point  is  the  promontory  of  Sunium  in  Attica  ; 
from  tlience  its  greatest  breadth,  to  the  promontory  of 
Leucas  in  the  west,  is  about  one  hundred  and  sixty 
miles.     The  greatness  of  the  nation  and  the  abundance 

'  From  30^  to  40  degrees  north  latitude. 


16  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

of  its  achievements  easily  lead  to  the  error  of  believing 
the  country  an  extensive  one.  But  even  if  we  add 
all  the  islands,  its  square  contents  are  a  third  less  than 
those  of  Portugal.  But  what  advantages  of  situation 
does  it  not  possess  over  the  Iberian  peninsula.  If  this, 
according  to  the  ideas  of  the  ancients,  was  the  west- 
ern extremity  of  the  world,  as  the  distant  Serica  was 
the  eastern,  Greece  was  as  it  were  in  the  centre  of  the 
most  cultivated  countries  of  three  continents.  A  short 
passage  by  sea  divided  it  from  Italy  ;  and  the  voyage  to 
Egypt,  Asia  Minor,  and  Phoenicia,  though  somewhat 
longer,  seemed  hardly  more  dangerous. 

Nature  herself,  in  this  land  of  such  moderate  extent, 
established  the  geographical  divisions,  separating  the 
peninsula  of  the  Peloponnesus  from  the  main  land ; 
and  dividing  the  latter  into  nearly  equal  parts,  northern 
and  southern,  by  the  chain  of  (Eta,  which  traverses  it 
obliquely.  In  every  direction  hills  interchange  with 
valleys  and  fruitful  plains  ;  and  though  in  its  narrow 
compass  no  large  rivers  are  found  (the  Peneus  and  Ach- 
elous  are  the  only  considerable  ones),  its  extensive 
coasts,  abundantly  provided  with  bays,  landing-places, 
and  natural  harbors,  afford  more  than  an  equivalent. 

TIic  peninsula  of  Pelops,  so  called  in  honor  of  Pelops, 
wlio,  according  to  the  tradition,  introduced,  not  war, 
but  the  gifts  of  peace  from  Asia  Minor,  is  about  equal 
in  extent  to  Sicilv,  and  forms  the  southernmost  district.^ 
It  consists  of  a  central  high  ridge  of  hills,  which  sends 
out  several  branches,  and  some  as  far  as  the  sea  ;  but 
between   these    branches  there    arc  fruitful  plains  well 

'   Soc  tlio   [NTap  of  tlio  Pcloponnrsus  by  Professor  C.  0.  IMiillcr,  on  wliich  the 
mountains  as  well  as  the  different  districts  are  (riven  witli  critical  exactness. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  17 

watered  by  an  abundance  of  streams,  which  pour  from 
the  mountains  in  every  direction.  This  high  inland 
district,  nowhere  touching  the  sea,  is  the  far-famed 
Arcadia  of  poetical  tradition.  Its  highest  ridge,  mount 
Cyllene,  rises,  according  to  Strabo,  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
stadia  above  the  sea.^  Nature  has  destined  this  country 
for  pastoral  life.  "  The  pastures  and  meadows  in  sum- 
mer are  always  green  and  unscorched  ;  for  the  shade 
and  moisture  preserve  them.  The  country  has  an  ap- 
pearance similar  to  that  of  Switzerland,  and  the  Arca- 
dians in  some  measure  resemble  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Alps.  They  possessed  a  love  of  freedom  and  yet  a  love 
of  money  ;  for  wherever  there  was  money,  you  might 
see  Arcadian  hirelings.  But  it  is  chiefly  the  western 
part  of  Arcadia  (where  Pan  invented  the  shepherd's 
flute),  which  deserves  the  name  of  a  pastoral  country. 
Innumerable  brooks,  one  more  delightful  than  the  other, 
sometimes  rushing  impetuously  and  sometimes  gently 
murmuring,  pour  themselves  down  the  mountains. 
Vegetation  is  rich  and  magnificent ;  everywhere  fresh- 
ness and  coolness  are  found.  One  flock  of  sheep  suc- 
ceeds another,  till  the  rugged  Taygelus  is  approached  ; 
where  numerous  herds  of  goats  interchange  with  them."^ 
The  inhabitants  of  Arcadia,  devoted  to  the  pastoral  life, 
preferred  therefore  for  a  long  time  to  dwell  in  the  open 
country  rather  than  in  cities  ;  and  when  some  of  these, 
particularly  Tegea  and  Mantinea,  became  considerable, 
the  contests  between  them  destroyed  the  peace  and 
liberties  of  the  people.     The  shepherd  life  among  the 

'  Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  595,  ed.  Casaub.  1707.     The  indefinite  nature  of  the  ac- 
count shows  how  uncertain  it  is. 
'  Bartholdy.     BruchstQcke  zur  nahern  Kenntniss  Griechenlands,  s.  239-241 . 
3 


18  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

Greeks,  although  much  ornamented  by  the  poets,  betrays 
its  origin  in  this  ;  that  it  arose  among  a  people,  who  did 
not  wander  like  Nomades,  but  had  fixed  abodes. 

Round  Arcadia  lay  seven  districts,  almost  all  of  which 
were  well  watered  by  streams,  that  descended  from  its 
highlands.  In  the  south  lay  the  land  of  heroes,  Laco- 
nia,  rough  and  mountainous,  but  thickly  settled  ;  so  that 
it  is  said,  at  one  time,  to  have  contained  nearly  a  hundred 
towns  or  villages.^  It  was  watered  by  the  Eurotas,  the 
clearest  and  purest  of  all  the  Grecian  rivers,^  which,  rising 
in  Arcadia,  was  increased  by  several  smaller  streams. 
Sparta  was  built  upon  its  banks,  the  mistress  of  the 
country,  without  walls,  without  gates  ;  defended  only  by 
its  citizens.  It  was  one  of  the  larger  cities  of  Greece ; 
but,  notwithstanding  the  market-place,  the  theatre,  and 
the  various  temples  which  Pausanias  enumerates,^  it  was 
not  one  of  the  more  splendid.  The  monuments  of  fallen 
heroes'*  constituted  the  principal  ornament  of  the  banks 
of  the  Eurotas,  which  were  then,  and  still  are,  covered 
with  the  laurel.^  But  all  these  monuments  have  pe- 
rished ;  there  is  a  doubt  even  as  to  the  spot  where  an- 
cient Sparta  was  situated.  It  was  formerly  thought  to 
be  the  modern  Misitra ;  this  opinion  has  been  given  up ; 
a  more  recent  traveller  believes,  that  about  three  miles 
to  the  south-oast  of  Misitra,  he  has  discovered,  in  the 
ruins  of  Mogula,  the   traces  of  the  ancient   theatre  and 


'  Manso  has  enumerated  sixty-seven:  Sparta,  i.  2.  p.  15.  And  yet  Laconia 
was  not  much  more  extensive  than  the  territory  of  Nuremberg,  when  a  free 
city 

-  Bartlioldy.     Bruclistilckc,  (tc.  p.  223. 

■'  Pausan.  iii.  p.  240.  ed.  Kuhn. 

■*  See  tiie  long  hst  of  them  in  Pausanias,  p.  240,  243,  &c. 

''  Pouqueville.     Voyage  i.  p.  1S9. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE,  19 

some  temples.^  At  the  distance  of  four  miles  lay  Amy- 
clas,  celebrated  for  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  of  whose  sanc- 
tuary not  a  trace  is  now  visible ;  and  a  road  of  twenty 
miles  led  from  Sparta  to  Gjthium,  its  harbor  in  that 
period  of  its  history,  when,  mistaking  its  true  policy,  it 
built  a  fleet.  On  the  west  and  north,  Laconia  was  sur- 
rounded by  the  lofty  Taygetus,  which  separated  it  from 
the  fruitful  plains  of  Messenia.  This  country  was  soon 
overpowered  by  Sparta,^  which,  having  thus  doubled  its 
territory,  easily  became  the  largest  of  all  the  Grecian 
cities.  But  after  a  long  and  quiet  possession,  Messenia 
was  finally  avenged ;  when  Epaminondas,  its  restorer, 
crushed  the  power  of  humbled  Sparta. 

A  neck  of  land,  called  Argolis,  from  its  capital  city 
Argos,  extends  in  a  south-easterly  direction  from  Arcadia 
forty-eight  miles  into  the  sea,  where  it  terminates  in  the 
promontory  of  Scillaeum.  Many  and  great  recollections 
recall  this  country  to  memory  from  the  heroic  age  ;  and 
the  remains  of  the  most  ancient  style  of  architecture,  the 
Cyclopic  walls,  which  are  still  standing  on  the  sites  of 
the  west  towns,  make  that  age  present  even  now.  Here 
lay  Tiryns,  whence  Hercules  departed  to  enter  on  his 
labors  ;  here  was  Mycen?e,  the  country  of  Agamemnon, 

'  See  Chateaubriand.  Itineraire  de  Paris  ii  Jerusalem,  i.  p.  25.  This  travel- 
ler was  but  one  hour  in  going  from  Misitra  to  IMogula,  by  way  of  Palaiochoros, 
on  horseback  and  in  a  gallop.  Those  discoveries  belong  to  M.  Chateaubriand  ; 
he  remarks,  however,  that  others  before  him  had  supposed  Palaiochoros  to  be  the 
site  of  ancient  Sparta.  The  great  insecurity  of  travelling  in  the  Peloponnesus 
increases  the  difficulty  of  the  investigation  ;  yet  by  the  work  of  Sir  William  Gell, 
in  his  Itmcrarij  of  the  Morea,  being  a  description  of  the  Routes  of  that  peninsula, 
London,  1S17,  with  a  map,  the  topography  of  the  peninsula  has  received  suffi- 
cient illustrations.  The  distances  given  in  the  text  rest  on  his  authority.  He 
makes  the  distance  from  Misitra  or  Mistra  to  Sparta  to  be  52  minutes.  The  city 
lay  on  hills,  and  appears  to  have  been  about  a  mile  long.  —  Gell,  p.  222. 

^  In  the  second  iVIessenian  war,  which  ended  G6S  years  before  Christ 


20  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

the  most  powerful  and  most  unhappy  of  kings ;  here  was 
Nemea,  celebrated  for  its  games  instituted  in  honor  of 
Neptune.  But  the  glory  of  its  earliest  times  does  not 
seem  to  have  animated  Argos.  No  Themistocles,  no 
Agesilaus  was  ever  counted  among  its  citizens ;  and, 
though  it  possessed  a  territory  of  no  inconsiderable  ex- 
tent, holding  in  subjection  the  larger  western  moiety  of 
the  district,  while  Epidaurus  and  Trsezene  remained 
independent ;  —  still  it  never  assumed  a  rank  among  the 
first  of  the  Grecian  states,  but  was  rather  the  sport  of 
foreign  policy. 

In  the  west  of  the  Peloponnesus  lay  Elis,  the  holy 
land.  Its  length  from  south  to  north,  if  the  small  south- 
ern district  of  Triphylia  be  reckoned,  amounted  to  forty- 
eight  miles  ;  its  breadth  in  the  broadest  part  was  not 
more  than  half  as  much.  Several  rivers,  which  had  their 
rise  in  the  Arcadian  mountains,  watered  its  fruitful 
plains.  Among  them  the  Alpheus  was  the  largest  and 
the  most  famous  ;  for  the  Olympic  games  were  cele- 
brated on  its  banks.  Its  fountains  were  not  far  distant 
from  those  of  the  Eurotas ;  and  as  the  latter,  taking  a 
southerly  direction,  flowed  through  the  land  of  war,  the 
former,  in  a  westerly  one,  passed  through  the  land  of 
peace.  For  here,  in  the  country  sacred  to  Jove,  where 
the  nation  of  the  Hellenes,  assembling  in  festive  pomp, 
saluted  each  other  as  one  people,  no  bloody  feuds  were 
suffered  to  profane  the  soil.  Armies  were  indeed  per- 
mitted to  pass  through  the  consecrated  land ;  but  they 
were  first  deprived  of  their  arms,  which  they  did  not 
again  receive  till  they  left  it.^      This  general  rule  was 

'  Strabo,  viii.  p.  247.  Phidon  of  Argos  was  the  first,  who  violated  this  sanctity 
by  an  invasion,  to  appropriate  to  himself  the  holding  of  the  Olympic  games, 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  21 

afterwards  limited  in  its  application  to  the  time  of  the 
Olympian  games ;  but  even  during  the  following  wars, 
the  treasures  of  art  in  the  sanctuaries  of  Elis  remained 
uninjured ;  and  under  their  protection  it  long  enjoyed 
a  beneficent  peace. 

The  country  of  Elis  embraced  three  divisions.  The 
woody  Triphylia  was  in  the  south,  and  contained  that 
Pylus,  which,  according  to  the  judgment  of  Strabo, 
could  lay  a  better  claim  than  either  of  the  other  two 
towns  of  the  same  name,  to  have  been  the  country  ruled 
by  Nestor.^  The  northern  division  was  Elis,  a  plain 
enclosed  by  the  rough  mountains  Pholoe  and  Scollis,  both 
spurs  from  the  Arcadian  Erymanthus,  and  watered  by 
the  Selleis  and  the  Elian  Peneus,  on  whose  banks  lay 
the  city  that  gave  a  name  to  the  whole  region,  over 
which  it  also  exercised  supreme  authority  ;  for  the  dis- 
trict of  the  Elians,  embracing  both  Pisatis  and  Triphylia, 
extended  to  the  borders  of  Messenia.^  The  middle  ter- 
ritory, Pisatis,  so  called  from  the  city  Pisa,  was  the  most 
important  of  all,  for  it  contained  Olympia.  Two  roads 
from  Elis  led  thither,  one  nearer  the  sea  through  the 
plain,  another  through  the  mountains  ;  the  distance  was 
from  twenty-eight  to  thirty-two  miles.^  The  name 
Olympia  designated   the   country    near   the    city  Pisa^ 

(  about  900  years  before  Christ )  ;  yet  this  occupation  must  have  been  transient, 
for  when  Elis  was  built,  (about  447  years  before  Christ)  that  city,  even  then 
relying  on  this  sanctity,  was  surrounded  by  no  walls. — Strabo,  1.  c.  It  was 
not  till  after  the  Peloponnesian  war,  that  this  and  so  many  other  religious  ideas 
appear  to  have  died  away. 

'  Strabo,  viii.  p.  242.  The  two  other  towns  were  situated,  one  in  northern 
Elis,  the  other  in  Messenia. 

^  Strabo,  viii.  p.  247,  relates  the  manner  in  which  it  came  to  be  extended  thus 
far  by  the  assistance  of  the  Spartans  in  the  Messenian  war. 

^  According  to  Strabo,  1.  c.  300  stadia. 

*  Barthelemy  is  not  strictly  accurate,  when  he  calls  (iv.  p.  207)   Pisa  and 


22  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

(which  even  in  Strabo's  time  was  no  longer  in  exist- 
ence), where  every  five  years  those  games  were  cele- 
brated, which  the  Elians  established  after  the  subjugation 
of  the  Pisans,  and  at  which  they  presided.  If  this  privi- 
lege gave  to  them,  as  it  were,  all  their  importance  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Greeks ;  if  their  country  thus  became  tlie 
common  centre  ;  if  it  was  the  first  in  Greece  with  re- 
spect to  works  of  art  and  perhaps  to  wealth;  if  their 
safety,  their  prosperity,  their  fame,  and  in  some  measure 
their  existence  as  an  independent  state,  were  connected 
with  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Olympius  and  its  festivals ;  — 
need  we  be  astonished,  if  no  sacrifice  seemed  to  them 
too  great,  by  which  the  glory  of  Olympia  was  to  be  in- 
creased ?  Here  on  the  banks  of  the  Alpheus  stood  the 
sacred  grove,  called  Altis,  of  olive  and  plane  trees,  sur- 
rounded by  an  enclosure  ;  a  sanctuary  of  the  arts,  such 
as  the  world  has  never  since  beheld.  For  what  are  all 
our  cabinets  and  museums,  compared  with  this  one  spot  ? 
Its  centre  was  occupied  by  the  national  temple  of  the 
Hellenes,  the  temple  of  Olympian  Jove,^  in  which  was 
tlie  colossal  statue  of  that  god,  tlie  masterpiece  of  Phi- 
dias. No  other  work  of  art  iu  antiquity  was  so  generally 
acknowledged  to  have  been  the  first,  even  whilst  all 
other  inventions  of  Grecian  genius  were  still  uninjured  ; 
and  need  we  hesitate  to  regard  it  as  the  first  of  all  the 
works  of  art,  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge  ?  Be- 
sides this  temple,  the  grove  contained  that  of  Juno  Lu- 
cina,  tlie  theatre  and  the  prytaneum  ;  in  front  of  it,  or 

()lyin])ia  one  cit^y.  Pisa  was  but  six  stadia  ( not  quite  a  mile)  from  the  tem- 
ple ;  Scliol.  Find,  ad  Ol.  x.  55.  I  have  never  met  witli  any  mention  of  a  city 
0]yini)ia. 

'  '1  h(j  temiilc  of  .luiiiter  Oly ii)piu.<,  built  by  the  Elians   in   the  age  of  Pericles, 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  23 

perhaps  within  its  precincts,^  was  the  stadium  together 
with  the  race-ground,  or  hippodromus.  The  whole  forest 
was  filled  with  monuments  and  statues,  erected  in  honor 
of  gods,  heroes,  and  conquerors.  Pausanias  mentions 
more  than  two  hundred  and  thirty  statues ;  of  Jupiter 
alone  he  describes  twentj-three,^  and  these  were,  for  the 
most  part,  works  of  the  first  artists ;  for  how  could 
inferiority  gain  admittance,  where  even  mediocrity  be- 
came despicable  ?  Pliny  estimates  the  whole  number  of 
these  statues  in  his  time,  at  three  thousand.^  To  this 
must  be  added  the  treasuries  (^-d^rjaavi^wi^,  which  the  piety 
or  the  vanity  of  so  many  cities,  enumerated  by  Pausa- 
nias,'* had  established  by  their  votive  presents.  It  was 
with  a  just  pride,  that  the  Grecian  departed  from  Olym- 
pia.  He  could  say  to  himself  with  truth,  that  he  had 
seen  the  noblest  objects  on  earth,  and  that  these  were 
not  the  works  of  foreigners,  nor  the  pillage  of  foreign 
lands,  but  at  once  the  creation  and  the  property,  of  his 
own  nation. 

had  nearly  the  same  dimensions  as  the  Parthenon  at  Athens  ;  230  feet  in  length, 
95  in  breadth,  and  63  in  height.  The  colossal  statue  of  Jupiter,  represented  as 
seated,  nearly  touched  the  roof  of  the  temple,  as  Strabo  relates  ;  and  is  said  to 
have  been  60  feet  high.  Compare  :  Volkel  iiber  den  grossen  Tempel  und  die 
Statue  des  Jupiters  in  Olympia,  1794. 

'  According  to  Strabo,  in  the  Altis  :  Barthclemy  says,  in  front  of  it.  We  are 
still  much  in  the  dark  respecting  the  situation  of  ancient  Olympia.  What 
Chandler  says  is  unimportant.  The  only  modern  traveller,  who  has  made  accu- 
rate investigations,  is  M.  Fauvel.  But  I  am  acquainted  with  his  communication 
to  the  National  Institute,  Fr6cis  de  scs  voyages  dans  h  continent  de  la  Grecc,  etc., 
only  from  the  short  notice  contained  in  Millin,  Magazin  Encyclop.  1802,  T.  II. 
He  found,  it  is  there  said,  not  only  the  remains  of  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  but 
also  of  the  Hippodromus. 

2  Pausanias,  v.  p.  434,  &c.  has  enumerated  and  described  that  number.  Among 
them  there  was  a  colossus  of  bronze,  27  feet  high. 

^  Pliny,  Hist.  Nat.  xxxiv.  17.  There  were  as  many  at  Athens,  Delphi,  and 
Rhodes. 

*  Pans.  vi.  p.  497,  etc. 


24  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

The  territory  of  Elis  was  indebted  for  its  repose  to  the 
protection  of  the  gods ;  Achaia,  the  country  which 
bounded  it  on  the  north,  to  the  wisdom  of  men.  Having 
once  been  inhabited  by  lonians,  this  maritime  country 
had  borne  the  name  of  Ionia ;  which  was  afterwards  ap- 
plied exclusively  to  the  neighboring  sea  on  the  west  side 
of  Greece.  But  in  the  confusion  produced  by  the  general 
emigration  of  the  Dorians,  it  exchanged  its  ancient  inha- 
bitants for  Achaeans.^  Achaia,  watered  by  a  multitude 
of  mountain  streams,  which  descended  from  the  high 
ridges  of  Arcadia,  belonged,  with  respect  to  its  extent, 
fruitfulness,  and  population,  to  the  middling  countries  of 
Greece.  The  character  of  its  inhabitants  was  analogous. 
They  never  aspired  after  aggrandizement,  or  influence 
abroad.  They  were  not  made  illustrious  by  great  gene- 
rals or  great  poets.  But  they  possessed  good  laws. 
Twelve  cities,^  each  with  a  small  territory,  independent 
of  each  other  in  the  management  of  their  internal  affairs, 
formed  a  confederacy,  which,  under  the  name  of  the 
Achjiean  league,  could  trace  its  origin  to  remote  antiquity. 
A  perfect  equality  was  its  fundamental  principle  ;  no 
precedence  of  rank  or  power  was  to  be  usurped  by  any 
single  city.  What  an  example  for  the  other  parts  of 
Greece,  if  they  had  been  able  or  willing  to  understand 
it!  In  this  manner  the  Achaeans  continued  for  along 
time  in  the  enjoyment  of  happy  tranquillity,  having  no 
share  in  the  wars  of  their  neighbors.  Tlieir  country  was 
in  no  one's  way,  and  attracted  no  one ;  even  during  the 
Poloponnesian  war,  they  remained  neutral.^     The  Mace- 

'  As  early  as  1100  before  Christ. 

^  Dymo  and  Patrce  were  t!ie  most  important ;  Helice  was  swallowed  up  by 

the  sea. 

■'  Thucyd.  li.  9. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  26 

donian  supremacy  finally  dissolved  the  confederacy,  and 
favored  individual  tyrants,  to  use  them  as  its  instruments. 
But  the  times  were  to  come,  when  Nemesis  should  rule. 
The  Achaean  league  was  renewed,  and  enlarged,  and  it 
became  most  dangerous  to  the  Macedonian  rulers. 

The  small  territory  of  the  city  Sicyon,  (which  after- 
wards belonged  to  the  Achaean  league)  divided  Achaia 
from  that  of  Corinth.  In  point  of  extent,  this  state  was 
one  of  the  smallest  in  Greece  ;  but  the  importance  of  a 
commercial  state  does  not  depend  on  the  extent  of  its 
territory.  Venice  was  never  more  flourishing  or  more 
powerful,  than  at  a  time  when  it  did  not  possess  a  square 
mile  on  the  continent.  Wealthy  Corinth,  more  than 
four  miles  in  extent,  lay  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  and  ele- 
vated hill,  on  which  its  citadel  was  built.  There  was 
hardly  a  stronger  fortress  in  all  Greece,  and  perhaps  no 
spot  afforded  a  more  splendid  prospect  than  Acrocorin- 
thus.^  Beneath  it  might  be  seen  the  busy  city  and  its 
territory,  with  its  temples,  its  theatres,  and  its  aque- 
ducts.^ Its  two  harbors,  Lechaeum  on  the  western  bay, 
Cenchreae  on  the  eastern,  filled  with  ships,  and  the  two 
bays  themselves  with  the  isthmus  between  them,  were 
all  in  sight.     The  peaks  of  Helicon   and  of  Parnassus 

'  See  Strabo,  p.  261.  Of  modern  travellers,  Spon  and  Wheler  ascended  it  in 
1676.  CJiateaubriand,  i.  36,  says,  that  tlie  prospect  at  the  foot  of  the  citadel  is 
enchanting.  If  it  is  so  now,  what  must  it  formerly  have  been  .'  Clarke  (Travels, 
vol.  ii.  §  5,  p.  745,  etc.)  describes  the  few  remaining  ruins,  and  the  whole 
country  round  Corinth;  especially  the  isthmus.  He  too,  and  his  companions, 
were  refused  admittance  to  the  citadel,  yet  they  obtained  .eave  to  climb  the  cliff 
on  which  it  stands;  and  which  might  be  made  as  strong  as  Gibraltar.  They 
gained  the  summit  just  at  sunset :  '■'  a  more  splendid  prospect  cannot  be  found  in 
Europe."     It  extended  even  to  the  Acropolis  at  Athens.     Travels,  ii.  p.  749. 

'  Corinth  is  famous  even  with  the  poets,  for  being;  well  supplied  with  water  ; 
compare  Euripides  in  Strabo  1.  c.  Pausanias  enumerates,  1.  ii.  117,  its  many 
temples  and  .aqueducts. 

4 


26  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

itself,  were  seen  at  a  distance  ;  and  a  strong  eye  could 
distinguish  on  the  eastern  side  the  Acropolis  of  Athens. 
What  images  and  emotions  are  excited  by  this  prospect ! 

Beyond  the  isthmus  of  the  Peloponnesus,  which  the 
Grecians,  acquainted  for  a  long  time  with  no  other,  were 
accustomed  to  call  simply  the  Isthmus,  lay  the  tract  of 
Hellas.  Its  southern  half  stretching  as  far  as  the  chain 
of  (Eta,  was  divided  into  eight,  or,  if  Locris,  of  which 
there  were  two  parts,  be  twice  counted,  into  nine  dis- 
tricts ;  of  these,  the  extent  was  but  small,  as  their  num- 
ber indicates.  Next  to  the  isthmus,  on  which  may  still 
be  seen  the  ruins  of  a  stadium  and  a  theatre,^  and  that 
temple  of  Neptune,  in  the  grove  of  fir-trees,  where 
all  Greece  assembled  to  celebrate  the  Isthmian  games, 
the  small  but  fruitful  territory  of  Megara^  began  ;  and 
througli  this,  along  the  high  rocky  shore,  where  the 
robber  Sciron  is  said  to  have  exercised  his  profession, 
the  road  conducted  lo  the  favorite  land  of  the  gods,  to 
Attica.^ 

A  neck  of  land  or  peninsula,  opposite  to  that  of  Ar- 
golis,  extends  in  a  southeasterly  direction  about  fifty-six 
miles  into  the  iEgean  sea,  and  forms  this  country.  Where 
it  is  connected  with  the  main  land,  its  greatest  breadth 
may  bo  twenty-four  mih^s  ;  but  it  tapers  more  and  more 
to  a  ])oint,  till  it  ends  in  the  high  cape  of  Sunium,  on  the 
summit  of  which  the  temple  of  Minerva  announced  to 
the  traveller,  as  he  arrived  from  sea,  the  land  which 
was   protected  by  the  goddess  of  courage  and  wisdom. 


'   Clarkf's  Travels,  ii.    p.  752.     Even   the  sacred  grove  of  firs  still  exists,  from 
which,  accordini;'  to  Pausanius,  the  crowns  of  the  victors  were  taken. 
■'   ].\k('  that  (;1"  Corinth;  not  more  than  eight  miles  in  length  and  hreadlh. 
'■'  On  Attica,  see  tlie  critical  map  of  Professor  O.  Muller. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  27 

It  was  not  endowed  with  luxuriant  fruitfulness  ;  it  never 
produced  so  much  corn  as  would  supply  its  own  inhabit- 
ants ;  and  for  this,  neither  the  honey  of  Hymettus,  nor 
the  marble  of  the  Pentelic  mountains,  nor  even  the  silver 
mines  of  Laurium,  could  have  afforded  a  compensation. 
But  the  culture  of  the  olive,  mechanic  industry,  and  the 
advantageous  use  made  of  the  situation  of  the  country 
for  the  purposes  of  commerce,  gave  to  the  frugal  people 
all  that  they  needed,  and  something  more  ;  for  the  ac- 
tivity of  commerce  was  shackled  by  no  restrictive  laws. 
Almost  the  whole  country  is  mountainous  ;  the  moun- 
tains are  indeed  of  a  moderate  height,  and  covered  with 
aromatic  plants ;  but  they  are  stony  and  without  forests. 
Their  outlines  are,  however,  wonderfully  beautiful ;  the 
waters  of  the  Ilissus,  the  Cephissus,  and  of  other  rivers, 
or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  of  other  brooks,  which 
stream  from  them,  are  clear  as  crystal,  and  delicious  to 
the  taste  ;  and  the  almost  constant  clearness  of  the  at- 
mosphere, which  lends  very  peculiar  tints  to  the  build- 
ings, no  less  than  to  the  mountains,'  opens  a  prospect, 
which  distance  can  hardly  bound.  "  For,  without  doubt," 
(says  a  modern  traveller-)  "  this  is  the  most  salubrious,  the 
purest,  and  the  mildest  climate  of  Greece  ;  as  Euripides^ 
has  said,  '  Our  air  is  soft  and  mild  ;  the  frost  of  winter 
is  never  severe,  nor  the  beams  of  Phoebus  oppressive  ; 
so  that  for  us  there  are  no  attractions  in  the  choicest  de- 
lights which  are  offered  by  the  fields  of  Asia,  or  the 
wealth  of  Hellas.' " 


'  See  the  remarks   of  Chateaubriand   on   this  subject.     Itinerairc  a  Jerusalem, 
i.  p.191. 

2  Bartholdy.  Bruclistilckc,  &c.  p.  214. 
'  Euripides  in  Ercchlheo.  fr.  i.  v.  15,  &c. 


28  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

But  where  the  mountains  open,  and  leave  room  for 
plains  of  a  moderate  extent,  the  soil  is  still  covered  by 
forests  of  olive-trees,  of  which  the  eye  can  perceive  no 
termination.  "  More  beautiful  are  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
Those  of  Palermo  or  on  the  Riviera  of  Genoa  are  hardly 
to  be  compared  with  these,  which  seem  as  it  were  im- 
mortal, and  century  after  century  send  forth  new  branches 
and  new  shoots  with  renovated  vigor."  ^  Formerly  they 
overshadowed  the  sacred  road,  and  the  gardens  of  the 
academy ;  and  if  the  goddess  herself,  like  her  scholars, 
has  deserted  the  soil,  she  has  at  least  left  behind  her  for 
posterity,  the  first  of  the  presents,  which  she  made  to 
her  darling  nation. 

The  traveller  from  Corinth  and  Megara,  passing  the 
isthmus  to  Attica,  reached  the  sacred  city  of  Eleusis  at 
the  distance  of  about  eight  miles  from  Megara.  When 
the  inhabitants  of  that  place  submitted  to  Athens,  they 
reserved  for  themselves  nothing  but  their  sanctuaries  f 
and  hence  the  mysterious  festivals  of  Ceres  continued  to 
1)0  celebrated  in  their  temple.  From  this  place,  the 
sacred  road  of  almost  unvarying  breadth,  led  to  the  city 
whicli  Pallas  protected. 

Athens  lay  in  a  plain,  which  on  the  southwest  ex- 
tended for  about  four  miles  towards  the  sea  and  the  har- 
bors, but  on  the  other  side  was  enclosed  by  mountains. 
The  ])lain  itself  was  interru})ted  by  several  rocky  hills. 
The  hugcst  and  highest  of  these  supported  the  Citadel 
or  Acropolis,  which  took  its  name  iVom  its  founder  Ce- 
cro[)s  :  round  this,  the  city  was  spread  out,  especially  in 

'   IJartln^idy.  ilvuciistiicke,  &c.  p.  220.     Tliis  account  is  confirmed  by  Clarke_, 
11    p.  7~'.!.  wlio  wiis  tolci  that  tlie  olive  trees  were  40.00!)  in  number. 
■'   I'aiisan.  i.  |).  '.-2, 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  29 

the  direction  of  the  sea.  The  summit  of  the  hill  con- 
tained a  level  space,  about  eight  hundred  feet  long,  and 
half  as  broad ;  which  seemed,  as  it  were,  prepared  by 
nature  to  support  those  masterpieces  of  architecture, 
which  announced  at  a  great  distance  the  splendor  of 
Athens.  The  only  road  which  led  to  it,  (;onducted  to 
the  Propylaea,^  with  its  two  wings,  the  temple  of  Victory, 
and  another  temple,  ornamented  with  the  pictures  of 
Polygnotus.  That  superb  edifice,  the  most  splendid 
monument  which  was  erected  under  the  administration 
of  Pericles,  the  work  of  Mnesicles,  was  decorated  by  the 
admirable  sculptures  of  Phidias.^  They  formed  the  proud 
entrance  to  the  level  summit  of  the  hill,  on  which  were 
the  temples  of  the  guardian  deities  of  Athens.  On  the 
left  was  the  temple  of  Pallas,  the  protectress  of  cities, 
with  the  column  which  fell  from  heaven,  and  the  sacred 
olive-tree  ;  and  that  of  Neptune.^  But  on  the  right,  the 
Parthenon,  the  pride  of  Athens,  rose  above  every  tiling 
else,  possessing  the  colossal  statue  of  Minerva  by  Phidias, 
next  to  the  Olympian  Jupiter,  the  noblest  of  his  works. 
At  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  the  one  side  was  the  Odeon, 
and  the   theatre  of  Bacchus,  where  the  tragic  contests 


'  Compare  the  sketches  and  drawings  in  Stuart's  Anfiqultirs  ofJlthcns. 

^  A  part  of  these  masterpieces  has  perished.  By  robbing  tlie  Acropolis,  Lord 
Elgin  has  gained  a  name,  which  no  other  will  wish  to  share  witli  hiin.  The  sea 
has  swallowed  up  his  plunder.  Tlie  devastation  niadc  by  this  modern  Ilcros- 
tratus,  is  described  not  by  Chateaubriand  only,  Itinur.  i.  p.  '<i0"2,  but  also,  and 
with  just  indignation,  by  his  own  countryman,  Clarke,  Travels,  ii.  p.  4i3,  an 
eye-witness. 

■^  The  two,  formino-  one  whole,  were  onl}-  divided  by  a  partition.  Consult  on 
the  details  of  the  building;  Minerva;  Poliadis  Sacra;  et  acdes  in  arce  Atlio- 
narum;  illustrata  ab  C.  Odofredo  Miiller.  Gotting;e,  L--2(),  aijd  the  plan  of  the 
city  by  the  same  author,  who,  in  liis  essay,  followed  a  still  extant  Attic  inscrip- 
tion -,  and  in  his  plan  of  Athens  differs  widely  from  I3artheleniv. 


30  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

were  celebrated  on  the  festivals  of  the  god,  and  those 
immortal  masterpieces  were  represented,  which,  having 
remained  to  us,  double  our  regret  for  those  that  are  lost ; 
on  the  other  side  was  the  Prytaneum,  where  the  chief 
magistrates  and  most  meritorious  citizens  were  honored 
by  a  table,  provided  at  the  public  expense.  A  moderate 
valley,  Coele,  was  interposed  between  the  Acropolis  and 
the  hill  on  which  the  Areopagus  held  its  sessions ;  and 
between  this  and  the  hill  of  the  Pnyx,  where  the  collected 
people  was  accustomed  to  decide  on  the  affairs  of  the 
republic.  Here  may  still  be  seen  the  tribune,  from  which 
Pericles  and  Demosthenes  spoke  (it  is  imperishable,  since 
it  was  hewn  in  the  rock)  ;  not  long  ago  it  was  cleared 
from  rubbish,  together  with  the  four  steps  which  led 
to  it.^ 

If  any  desire  a  more  copious  enumeration  of  the 
temples,  the  halls,  and  the  works  of  art,  which  decorated 
the  city  of  Pallas^  they  may  find  it  in  Pausanias.  Even 
in  his  time,  how  much,  if  not  the  larger  part,  yet  the 
l)est,  had  been  removed  ;  how  much  had  been  injured 
and  destroyed  in  the  wars  ;  and  yet  when  we  read  what 
was  still  there,  we  naturally  ask  with  respect  to  Athens 
(as  with  respect  to  so  many  other  Grecian  cities),  where 
could  all  this  have  found  room  ?  The  whole  country- 
round  Athens,  j)articularly  the  long  road  to  the  Pir?ceus, 
w;is  ornamented  with  monuments  of  all  kinds,  especially 
A\ith  the  tombs  of  great  poets,  warriors,  and  statesmen, 
who  did  not  olten  remain  after  death  without  expressions 
oJ  ])ublic  gratitude,  which  were  given  so  much  the  less 
fiXMjucntlv  during  their  lives.     A  double  wall,  called  the 

'   '  h:itpii\)l)r'nn(i.  Itin 'vniro,  vnl,  i.  p.  184  ;   and  Clnrko,  Tinvc's,  ii.  2.  p.  450. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  31 

Northern  and  Southern,  enclosed  the  road,  which  was 
nearly  four  miles  long,  on  both  sides,  and  embraced  the 
two  harbors  of  Piraeeus  and  Phalereus.  This  wall, 
designed  and  executed  by  Themistocles,  was  one  of  the 
most  important  works  of  the  Athenians.  It  was  forty 
Grecian  ells  in  height,  built  entirely  of  freestone,  and  so 
broad,  that  two  baggage-waggons  could  pass  each  other. 
The  Pira3eus,  to  which  it  led,  formed  (as  did  Phaleras)  a 
city  by  itself  with  its  own  public  squares,  temples, 
market-places,  and  its  enlivening  commercial  crowd  ;  and 
it  seemed  perhaps  even  more  animated  than  Athens.^  Its 
harbor,  well  provided  with  docks  and  magazines,  was 
spacious  enough  to  hold  in  its  three  divisions  four 
hundred  triremes  ;  whilst  the  Phalereus  and  Munychius 
could  each  accommodate  only  about  fifty.-^  All  three 
were  formed  naturally  by  the  bays  of  the  coast;  but 
the  Piraeeus  excelled  the  others  not  only  in  extent,  but 
also  in  security. 

The  plain  of  Athens  was  surrounded  on  three  sides  by 
mountains,'  which  formed  its  limits  within  no  very  great 
distance  of  the  city.  The  prospect  from -the  Acropolis 
and  the  Parthenon  commanded  on  the  east  tiie  two 
peaks  of  Hynicttus  ;  on  the  north,  Pentelicus  with  its 
quarries  of  marble  ;  to  the  northwest,  the  Cith'ccron  was 
seen  at  a  great  distance,  rising  above  the  smaller  moun- 
tains ;  and   Laurium,    rich   in    silver  mines,    lay   to    the 


'  Tlic  Pirtceus  was  sonietimes  reckoned  as  a  part  of  Athen?;  and  tliis  explains 
liow  it  was  possible  to  say,  tliat  the  city  was  two  liundrcd  stadia,  or  twenty  miles 
in  ciicuniference.     Dio  Chrysost.  Or.  vi. 

"  The  rich  compilations  of  Meursius  on  the  Pira'eus,  no  less  than  on  x\thcns, 
the  Acropolis,  the  Ceramicus,  &;c.  (Groiiov.  Thes.  Ant.  Gr.  v(i\.  ii.  iii.)  contain 
almost  all  the  passages  of  the  ancients  respectin<r  them. 


32  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

southeast  almost  at  the  end  of  the  peninsula ;  but  towards 
the  southwest,  the  eye  could  freely  range  over  the  har- 
bors and  the  Saronic  bay,  with  the  islands  of  Salamis 
and  iEgina,  as  far  as  the  lofty  citadel  of  Corinth.'  Many 
of  the  chief  places  of  the  cantons  (^'/,«ot),  into  which  At- 
tica was  divided,  (and  of  these  there  were  more  than  one 
hundred  and  seventy)  might  also  be  seen  ;  and  the  situa- 
tion was  distinct  even  of  the  towns,  which  the  mountains 
covered.  No  one  of  these  was  important  as  a  city,  and 
yet  there  were  few  which  had  not  something  worthy  of 
observation,  statues,  altars,  and  temples ;  for  to  whatever 
part  of  his  country  the  Athenian  strayed,  he  needed  to 
behold  something  which  might  remind  him  that  he  was 
in  Attica.  There  were  many,  of  which  the  name  alone 
awakened  proud  recollections ;  and  no  one  was  farther 
than  a  day's  journey  from  Athens.  It  required  but  about 
five  hours  to  reach  the  long  but  narrow  plain^  of  Mara- 
thon, on  the  opposite  coast  of  Attica.  It  was  twenty- 
four  miles  to  Sunium,  which  lay  at  the  southern  ex- 
tremity of  the  peninsula,  and  a])out  twenty  to  the  borders 
of  Ba'otia. 

This  country,  so  frequently  enveloped  in  mists,  lay  to 
the  northwest  of  Attica,  and  exhibited,  in  almost  every 
respect,  a  different  character.  Ba^otia  was  shut  in  by 
the  chain  of  Helicon,  CitJia^ron,  Parnassus,  and,  towards 
the  sea,  Ptoiis  ;  these  enclosed  a  large  plain,  constituting 
the  cliief  part  of  the  country.  Numerous  rivers,  of  which 
the  Cephissus  was  the  most  imjjortant,'^  descending  from 


'   f 'iintinnliriniid.  Itiiicrairc,  rtc.  i.  p.  20(1. 

-  C'li;:iKl]er's  'i'ravols.  p.  IGo.     Clnrke.  Philes  ii.  2.  ii.  4.  5.,  o-ives  not  nuly  a 
doscripiinii.  i)iii  a  map  and  vi'.^w  of  tiio  country. 
■  Di^^^lU('i.  rroiii  ilip  (.ophissiiis  in  AUicii. 


GEOGRAPHICAL   VIEW   OF  GREECE.  33 

the  heights,  had  probably  stagnated  for  a  long  time,  and 
had  formed  lakes,  of  which  Copais  is  the  largest.  This 
lake  must  have  subterraneous  outlets ;  for  while  the 
canals,  through  which  its  waters  were  anciently  distri- 
buted, have  fallen  into  decay,  it  has  so  far  decreased  in 
modern  times,  that  it  is  now  almost  dried  to  a  swamp.' 
But  these  same  rivers  appear  to  have  formed  the  soil  of 
Boeotia,  which  is  among  the  most  fruitful  in  Greece. 
BcEotia  was  also  perhaps  the  most  thickly  settled  part  of 
Greece ;  for  no  other  could  show  an  equal  number  of 
important  cities.  The  names  of  almost  all  of  them  are 
frequently  mentioned  in  history ;  for  it  was  the  will  of 
destiny,  that  the  fate  of  Greece  should  often  be  decided 
in  Boeotia.  Its  freedom  was  won  at  Plataese,  and  lost  at 
Chaeronea ;  the  Spartans  conquered  at  Tanagra,  and  at 
Leuctra  their  power  was  crushed  forever.  Thebes  with 
its  seven  gates,  (more  distinguished  for  its  extent  than  its 
buildings,)  esteemed  itself  the  head  of  the  Boeotian  cities, 
although  it  was  not  acknowledged  as  such  by  all.  This 
usurpation  by  Thebes,  of  a  supremacy  over  Boeotia,  was 
of  decisive  importance  in  several  periods  of  Grecian 
history. 

Boeotia  was  divided  by  mount  Cithseron  from  Attica, 
and  by  Parnassus  from  Phocis.  This  district,  of  mod- 
erate size  and  irregular  shape,  extended  to  the  south 
along  the  bay  of  Corinth ;  and  was  bounded  on  the  north 
by  the  chain  of  (Eta.     Here  are  the  passes  which  lead 

'  Bartlioldy.  BruchstClcke,  &c.  p.  230.  On  the  ancient  subterraneous  outlets  of 
this  lake,  which  form  some  of  the  most  curious  remains  of  the  earliest  hydraulic 
works,  and  on  the  geography  and  earliest  history  of  Boeotia,  a  clearer  light  is 
spread  in  C.  O.  Muller's  histories  of  the  Hellenic  Tribes  and  Cities,  published  in 
1820,  with  a  map. 

5 


34  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

from  Boeotia  to  Attica.  Of  these,  the  most  important  is 
near  the  city  Elatea,  and  on  that  account  was  earlj  oc- 
pied  by  Philip  on  his  second  invasion  of  Greece.  The 
desolate  mountain  of  Parnassus,  once  associated  with  the 
fame  of  Phocis,  presents  to  the  traveller  of  our  times, 
nothing  but  recollections.  Delphi  lay  on  the  south  side 
of  it,  overshadowed  by  its  double  peak  ;  and  not  far 
above  the  city  was  the  temple,  the  oracle  of  Apollo. 
Here  the  masterpieces  of  art  were  displayed  in  countless 
abundance  under  the  protection  of  the  god  ;  together 
with  the  costly  and  consecrated  offerings  of  nations, 
cities,^  and  kings.  Here  in  the  Amphictyonic  council, 
still  more  costly  treasures,  the  first  maxims  of  the  laws 
of  nations,  were  matured  by  the  Greeks.  Hither  on  the 
festival  days,  when  the  great  games  of  the  Pythian  deity 
recurred,  (games  surpassed  only  by  those  of  Olympia,) 
pilgrims  and  spectators  poured  in  throngs ;  here  at  the 
Castalian  fountain,  the  songs  of  the  poets  resounded  in 
solemn  rivalship  ;  and,  more  exciting  than  all,  the  accla- 
mations of  the  multitude. 

Of  all  this  not  a  vestige  remains.  Not  even  ruins 
have  been  spared  to  us  by  time.  Only  one  monument 
of  doubtful  character  seems  to  designate  the  spot,  where 
(Edipus  slew  his  father  Laius  ;  and  whilst  every  vestige 
of  greatness  and  glory  has  vanished,  nothing  but  the 
memory  of  a  crime  is  perpetuated.^ 

Phocis  and  mount  Parnassus  separate  the  two  parts  of 
Locris.     The   eastern  part,  inhabited  by  the  two  tribes 

'  jNIany  of  tliem  had,  as  at  Olympia,  storehouses  of  their  own.  Pliny,  xxxiv. 
17,  estimates  tlie  number  of  statues  at  Delphi,  as  at  Olympia  and  Athens,  to 
have  been  even  in  iiis  time  3000. 

'  Bartholdy.  BruchstUcke,  p.  251.  Compare  the  view  in  Clarke,  Plates  ii.  2. 
PI.  10,  11. 


GEOGRAPHICAL   VIEW   OF    GREECE.  35 

which  took  their  names  from  the  city  Opus  and  mount 
Cnemis,*  lies  along  the  Euripus,  or  the  long  strait,  which 
divides  the  island  Euboea  from  Boeotia ;  and  would  have 
almost  nothing  to  show,  that  is  worthy  of  commemora- 
tion, were  it  not  that  the  inseparable  names  of  Ther- 
mopylae and  Leonidas  produce  an  emotion  in  every  noble 
mind.  "  Here  the  long  heroic  file  of  three  hundred 
Spartans,  takes  precedence  of  others,  as  it  moves  through 
the  gate  of  eternity."  ^  "  At  Thermopylae,"  says  He- 
rodotus,^ "  a  steep  and  inaccessible  mountain  rises  on 
the  west  side  in  the  direction  of  (Eta ;  but  on  the  east 
side  of  the  road  are  the  sea  and  marshes.  In  the  pass 
there  are  warm  fountains,  near  which  stands  an  altar  to 
Hercules.  On  going  from  Trachin  to  Hellas,  the  road 
is  but  half  a  plethrum  (fifty  feet)  wide,  yet  the  narrowest 
place  is  not  there ;  but  just  in  front  and  back  of  Ther- 
mopylae, where  there  is  room  for  but  one  carriage."  Thus 
Thermopylae  was  considered  as  the  only  road,  by  which 
an  army  could  pass  from  Thessaly  into  Hellas,  for  nothing 
more  than  a  footpath  ran  across  the  mountains  ;  and 
Thermopylae,  not  only  during  the  wars  with  Persia,  but 
also  in  the  age  of  Philip,  was  considered  the  gate  of 
Greece. 

The  western  part  of  Locris,  on  the  bay  of  Corinth, 
inhabited  by  the  Ozolae,  was  greater  in  extent,  but  pos- 
sessed fewer  remarkable  objects.  Yet  its  harbor  Nau- 
pactus  has  preserved  its  importance,  while  so  many  of  the 
most  celebrated  cities  have  become  insignificant.     It  is 


'  Locri,  Opuntii,  and  Epicnemidii. 

*  This  grave  is  still  shown.     See  the  view  of  it  and  of  the  country,  in  Clarke, 
pi.  13. 
'  Herod,  vii.  176. 


36  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

now  called  Lepanto,  and  is  perhaps  the  only  town  of 
which  the  modern  name  is  more  harmonious  than  the 
ancient. 

The  western  parts  of  Hellas,  rough  iEtolia,  and  woody 
Acarnania,  are  indeed  among  the  largest  districts,  but 
are  so  inferior  to  the  rest  in  fame,  that  the  historian  can 
do  little  more  than  name  them.  Nature  was  here  nei- 
ther less  sublime  nor  less  munificent ;  both  were  situ- 
ated on  the  largest  of  the  Grecian  rivers,  the  Achelous, 
which  flowed  between  them ;  both  were  inhabited  by 
descendants  of  the  Hellenes  ;  both  were  once  celebrated 
for  heroes ;  and  yet  the  ^tolians  and  the  Acarnanians 
remained  barbarians,  after  the  Athenians  had  become 
the  instructors  of  the  world.  —  How  difficult  it  is,  to 
comprehend  the  history  of  the  culture  of  nations  ! 

The  chain  of  (Eta,  which  farther  west  receives  the 
name  of  Othrys,  and  at  last  of  Pindus,  and,  taking  a 
northerly  direction,  is  connected  with  the  mountains  of 
Macedonia,  divides  the  central  part  of  Greece  from  the 
northern.  Tliessaly,  the  largest  of  all  the  Grecian  prov- 
inces, (though  its  extent  cannot  be  given  with  accuracy, 
for  its  boundary  on  the  north  was  never  defined),  forms 
the  eastern,  and  Epirus  the  western  part  of  this  district. 
There  is  hardly  any  other  in  Greece,  for  which  nature 
seems  to  have  done  so  much  as  for  Thessaly.  The 
mountains  which  have  been  mentioned,  surrounded  it  on 
three  sides  ;  while  the  peaks  of  Ossa  and  of  Olympus^ 
rose  above  them  on  the  east  along  the  coasts  of  the 
yEgean  sea.  Thessaly  can  with  justice  be  called  the 
land  of  the  Peneus  ;  which,  descending  from  Pindus, 
flowed  through  it  from  west  to  east.  A  multitude  of 
tributary  streams   poured   from   the  north   and  the  south 


GEOGRAPHICAL   VIEW  OF  GREECE.  ^ 

into  this  river.  The  traditions  of  the  ancients  related,^ 
that  it  had  stagnated  for  centuries,  till  an  earthquake  di- 
vided Olympus  and  Ossa,^  and  opened  for  it  a  passage 
to  the  Mgean  sea  through  the  delicious-vale  of  Tempe.^ 
Thus  the  plain  of  Thessaly  arose  from  the  floods,  pos- 
sessed of  a  soil,  which  they  had  long  been  fertilizing. 
No  other  district  had  so  extensive  an  internal  navigation  ; 
which,  with  a  little  assistance  from  art,  might  have  been 
carried  to  all  its  parts.  Its  fruitful  soil  was  fitted  alike 
for  pasturing  and  the  cultivation  of  corn  ;  its  coasts,  es- 
pecially the  bay  of  Pagasa,^  afforded  the  best  harbors  for 
shipping  ;  nature  seemed  hardly  to  have  left  a  wish  un- 
gratified.  It  was  in  Thessaly,  that  the  tribe  of  the  Hel- 
lenes, according  to  the  tradition,  first  applied  themselves 
to  agriculture ;  and  thence  its  several  branches  spread 
over  the  more  southern  lands.  Almost  all  the  names  of 
its  towns,  as  Pelasgiotis  and  Thessaliotis,  recall  some 
association  connected  with  the  primitive  history  and  he- 
roic age  of  the  nation.  The  Doric  tribe  found  in  Esti- 
aeotis  its  oldest  dwelling-places  ;  and  who  has  ever  heard 
the  name  of  Phthiotis,  without  remembering  the  hero  of 
the  Iliad,  the  great  Pelides  ?  Thessaly  was  always  well 
inhabited  and  rich  in  cities.  In  the  interior,  the  most 
celebrated  were  Larissa,  situated  in  the  midst  of  the 
noble  plain,  and  Pherse  ;  lolcos,  whence   the  Argonauts 

•  Herod,  viii.  6.     Strab.  ix.  p.  296. 

^  To  commemorate  the  event,  a  festival  was  instituted  in  Thessaly,  called  the 
Peloria,  which  festival  seems  to  have  been  continued  in  a  christian  one.  Bar- 
tholdy,  p.  137. 

•'  "  Tempe  forms,  as  it  were,  a  triple  valley,  which  is  broad  at  the  entrance  and 
at  the  end,  but  very  narrow  in  the  middle."  These  are  the  words  of  Bartholdy, 
who,  of  all  modern  travellers,  has  given  us  the  most  accurate  account  of  Tempe 
from  his  own  observation.     BruchstUcke,  &c.  p.  112,  &c. 

*  Pagaea  itself  (afterwards  called  Demetrias),  lolcos,  and  Magnesia, 


38  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

embarked,  and  Magnesia,  were  on  the  seacoast.  But  it 
was  perhaps  the  very  fertility  of  the  soil,  which  ruined 
the  Thessalians.  They  rioted  in  sensual  enjoyments ; 
they  were  celebrated  for  banquets,  and  not  for  works  of 
genius ;  and  although  Olympus,  the  mountain  of  the 
gods,  was  on  the  boundary  of  their  land,  nothing  god- 
like was  ever  unfolded  within  its  precincts.  Is  it  strange 
that  in  the  midst  of  such  gross  sensuality,  the  love  of 
self  overpowered  the  love  of  country  ;  that  neither  he- 
roes nor  poets  were  created  among  them  by  the  inspira- 
tions of  patriotism  ?  Anarchy  and  tyranny  commonly 
followed  each  other  in  regular  succession;  and  thus 
Thessaly,  always  ripe  for  foreign  subjugation,  cowered 
of  itself  beneath  the  yoke  of  the  Persians,  and  afterwards 
under  that  of  Philip. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  Peneus,  the  pure  race 
and  language  of  the  Hellenes  were  not  to  be  found. 
Other  nations,  probably  of  Illyrian  descent,  dwelt  there ; 
the  Perrhaebians,  the  Athamanes,  and  others ;  who,  as 
Strabo  relates,  sometimes  claimed  to  belong  to  the  Thes- 
salians, and  sometimes  to  the  Macedonians.^  The  case 
was  not  different  in  Epirus,  which  lay  to  the  west.  The 
house  of  the  iEacidae,  a  Grecian  family,  the  descendants 
of  Achilles,  were  indeed  the  rulers  over  the  Molossians  ; 
and  the  oracle  of  the  Jupiter  of  the  Hellenes  was  heard 
in  the  sacred  grove  of  Dodona  ;  but  still  the  larger  por- 
tion of  the  inhabitants  seems  hardly  to  have  been  of  the 
Grecian  race. 

The  main  land  of  Hellas  was  surrounded  by  a  coro- 
net of  islands,  which   were  gradually  occupied  by   the 

'  Strabo,  vii.  p.  494.     Others  esteem  them  of  Pelasgic  origin.     Compare  C.  O. 
Milllor's  Dorians,  i.  p.  25. 


GEOGRAPHICAL   VIEW   OF   GREECE.  39 

Hellenes,  and  came  to  be  considered  as  parts  of  their 
country.  They  rose  above  the  sea  in  beautiful  verdure, 
and  were  surmounted  by  rocky  hills.  We  can  hardly 
doubt,  that  we  see  in  them  the  remains  of  an  earlier 
world  ;  when  the  waters  which  covered  the  middle  parts 
of  Asia,  and  the  deserts  of  northern  Africa,  retired,  leav- 
ing behind  them  the  Euxine  and  the  Mediterranean  sea 
as  two  vast  reservoirs.  Each  of  those  islands  commonly 
bore  the  name  of  the  chief  town,  of  which  it  formed  the 
territory ;  with  the  exception  of  the  three  large  islands 
Euboea,  Crete,  and  Cyprus,  each  of  which  contained 
several  cities.  Almost  every  one  of  them  possessed  its 
own  remarkable  objects  and  its  own  claims  to  fame. 
Fruitful  Corcyra'  boasted  then,  as  it  does  now,  of  its 
harbor  and  its  ships.  Ithaca,  small  as  it  is,  shares  the 
immortality  of  Ulysses  and  Homer.  Cythera,  in  the 
south,  was  the  residence  of  the  Paphian  goddess.  jEgi- 
na,  unim])ortant  as  it  seems,  long  disputed  with  Athens 
the  sovereignty  of  the  sea.  What  Greek  could  hear  Sa- 
lamis  named,  without  feeling  a  superiority  over  the  bar- 
barians ?  Euboea  was  celebrated  for  its  fruitfulness ; 
Thasos  for  its  gold  mines  ;  Samothrace  for  its  myste- 
ries ;  and  in  the  labyrinth  of  the  Cyclades  and  Sporades, 
now  called  the  Archipelago,  what  island  had  not  afforded 
the  poets  the  subject  of  a  hymn.^  DeJos  and  Naxus  had 
their  gods ;  Paros  its  marble  ;  Melos  its  misfortunes.^ 
If  so  many  of  them  are  now  desolate  ;  if  the  alluring 
Cythera  has  become  a  naked  rock  ;  if  Samos  is  poisoned 
by  its  swamps ;    if  nature   herself  seems  here  to  have 

'  Now  Corfu. 

*  Need  we  mention  the  liymns  of  Callimachus  .' 

3  See  Thucydides,  v.  116. 


'40  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

grown  old ;  shall  we  conclude  that  these  things  were  so 
in  ancient  times  ?  The  Etesian  winds  blow  certainly 
with  more  piercing  roughness,  now  that  the  tops  of  the 
mountains  are  naked ;  the  brooks  stagnate  in  the  deso- 
late plains ;  but  the  change  of  seasons  still  produces 
varying  visions ;  and  the  traveller,  who  at  one  time  finds 
the  Archipelago  melancholy  and  waste,  a  few  months  later 
may  contemplate  a  smiling  prospect.  "  In  spring,  these 
islands  are  covered  with  green  turf,  with  anemones  and 
flowers  of  all  colors.  But  in  the  month  of  August,  when 
the  northerly  winds  prevail,  everything  is  burnt  and 
dried  up,  and  the  parched  fields  produce  no  more  herb- 
age till  autumn."^ 

This  view  of  Greece,  though  it  cannot  claim  to  be 
considered  a  regular  description,  leads  us  to  several  re- 
marks, which  may  perhaps  throw  some  light  on  the  his- 
tory of  the  nation. 

First :  Greece  was  naturally  so  divided  and  cut  in 
pieces  in  a  geographical  point  of  view,  that  it  could  not 
have  been  easy  for  any  one  district  to  gain  the  suprema- 
cy over  the  rest.  Thessaly  could  not  well  control  the 
lands  which  lay  to  the  south  of  QCta  ;  and  still  less  could 
Hellas  sway  the  Peloponnesus,  or  the  Peloponnesus, 
Hellas.  Nature  herself  had  erected  breastworks  for 
those,  who  desired  and  who  knew  how  to  be  free. 
It  was  easy  to  defend  Thermopylfc,  or  the  Isthmus. 
We  do  not  here  take  into  consideration  the  superior 
power  of  a  foreign  conqueror ;  but  even  that  could  have 
effected  little,  so  long  as  the  nation  refused  to  forge  its 
own  chains. 

'   P>aithold\-.     15ruohst(lcke,  Arc.  p.  ]!)4.     The  whole  description   of  tlie  Archi- 
pelago, by  this  traveller,  should  be  consulted, 


GEOGRAPHICAL   VIEW   OF   GREECE.  41 

Again  :  If  Greece  was  excelled  by  many  countries  in 
fertility,  it  would  yet  be  difficult,  and,  at  least  in  Europe, 
impossible,  to  find  a  land  of  such  limited  extent,  where 
nature  had  done  so  much  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  various 
branches  of  industry.  Greece  was  not  merely  an  agri- 
cultural, or  a  commercial  country,  or  a  land  fitted  for  pas- 
turing ;  it  was  all,  at  once  ;  but  different  parts  of  it  had 
different  degrees  of  aptitude  for  the  one  or  the  other. 
The  fruitful  Messenia  was  fit  for  the  growth  of  corn  ; 
Arcadia  for  the  nurture  of  cattle.  Attica  was  proud  of 
its  oil,  and  the  honey  of  Hymettus  ;  Thessaly  of  its 
horses.  Of  mines,  there  were  not  many  ;  still  they  were 
not  unknown  in  Laurium  and  Thasos.  The  maritime 
towns  were  suited  for  trade  and  commerce  ;  and  the 
coasts,  indented  with  bays,  and  the  islands,  invited  to 
navigation.  This  variety  of  pursuits  in  active  life  may 
have  been  the  cause  of  an  extensive  intellectual  culture, 
which  was  directed  to  many  objects,  and  perhaps  laid 
the  foundation  for  the  farther  improvement  of  the  nation. 

Lastly  :'  No  other  country  in  Europe  was  so  favorably 
situated  for  holding  commerce  with  the  oldest  cultivated 
nations  of  the  western  world.  On  the  way  to  Asia 
Minor  and  Phosnicia,  one  island  almost  touched  upon 
another.  It  was  easy  to  cross  into  Italy  ;  and  the  coasts 
of  Egypt  were  not  far  distant.  Even  in  the  times  of 
fable,  a  path  was  discovered  from  the  shores  of  Thessaly 
to  those  of  Colchis ;  and  how  much  earlier,  and  with 
how  much  greater  facility,  to  those  countries,  where  no 
rocks,  like  the  Symplegades,  opposed  the  passage  of  the 
daring  Argo  ? 

u 


42  CHAPTER  SECOND. 


CHAPTER   II. 


EARLIEST  CONDITION  OF  THE  NATION ;  AND  ITS  BRANCHES. 

The  nation  of  the  Hellenes,  as  they  called  themselves 
after  an  ancient  leader,  (for  they  received  the  name  of 
Greeks  from  foreigners,)  preserved  many  a  tradition 
respecting  their  earliest  state,  representing  them  to  have 
been  nearly  on  a  level  with  the  savage  tribes  which  now 
wander  in  the  forests  of  North  America.^  From  these 
traditions,  it  would  seem,  that  there  was  once  a  time, 
when  they  had  no  agriculture,  but  lived  on  the  sponta- 
neous produce  of  the  woods  ;  and  when  even  fire  could 
not  be  appropriated  to  the  service  of  man,  till  it  had  first 
been  stolen  from  heaven.  Yet,  in  the  meanwhile,  they 
gradually  spread  over  the  country,  which  they  afterwards 
possessed  ;  and  al!  foreign  tribes  were  either  driven  from 
tlie  soil,  or  were  mingled  with  tliem.  Much  is  told  of 
the  emigration  of  individual  tribes,  from  the  southern 
districts  to  the  northern,  and  from  these  back  again  into 
the  southern  ;  but  the  peculiar  habits  of  nomades,  as  seen 
in  tlie  nations  of  middle  Asia,  belonged  to  the  Greeks  as 
little  as  to  the  Germanic  race.  The  moderate  extent 
and  the  hilly  character  of  their  country,  which  afforded 
pasture  only  for  less  numerous  herds,  did  not  admit  of 
that  kind  of  life. 

As    far  :is    we    can  judge  from    the    very    indefinite 
accounts  of  this  early  period,  it  seems,  especially  in  the 

'    .+~.sclivl.  Pioin    viiict.  V    442,  etc 


EARLIEST  CONDITION  OF  THE  NATION.  43 

fourteenth  and  thirteenth  centuries  before  the  Christian 
era,  that  the  race  of  -the  Hellenes  was  already  so  far  ex- 
tended over  Hellas,  as  to  be  every  where  predominant. 
For  it  appears  as  such  even  then,  before  the  Trojan  war. 
The  nation  of  the  Pelasgi,  which,  no  less  than  that  of 
the  Hellenes,  belonged  to  the  first  inhabitants  of  the 
country,  and  which  must  be  considered  as  having  had  a 
different  origin,  since  their  language  was  different,^  may 
at  an  early  period  have  been  the  most  powerful,  but  was 
constantly  reduced  within  narrower  limits,  and  either 
emigrated  to  Italy  and  other  countries ;  or,  where  it  pre- 
served its  residence,  as  in  Arcadia  and  Attica,  was  grad- 
ually mingled  with  the  Hellenes,  of  whom  the  power 
was  constantly  increasing,  until  every  vestige  of  it,  as  a 
separate  race,  was  entirely  lost.  Whilst  the  Hellenes 
were  thus  spreading  through  Greece,  the  several  chief 
tribes  of  them  became  more  and  more  distinctly  marked  ; 
and  this  division  was  so  lasting  and  so  full  of  conse- 
quences, that  the  internal  history  of  the  nation  for  the 
most  part  depends  on  it.  Of  the  four  most  important 
branches,  the  lonians,  Dorians,  ^Eolians,  and  Achaeans, 
the  two  first  (for  the  jEolians  were  chiefly  mingled  with 

1  Herod,  i.  57.  The  relation  of  the  Pelasgi  to  llie  Hellenes  is  of  difficult  solu- 
tion. But  the  judgment  of  Herodotus  in  the  passage  now  cited,  rests  on  tlie 
comparison  of  the  language  of  Pelasgi,  of  whom  some  were  found  even  in  his 
times,  in  the  city  Cruston,  and  Placise  and  Scylace,  the  two  last  on  the  Helles- 
pont. Tliis  was  so  different  from  the  language  of  the  Hellenes,  as  in  his  opinion 
to  prove  a  nation  of  a  different  stock.  True,  this  is  at  variance  with  his  previous 
remarks,  that  the  Dorians  are  of  Hellenic,  the  lonians  of  Pelasgic  origin.  But 
the  lonians  whom  he  had  in  view,  are  the  Athenians,  who  had  become  Hellenes, 
by  the  immigrations  and  intermarriage  of  lonians  with  the  native  Pelasgi.  Com- 
pare viii.  44.  If  difference  of  language  proves  difference  of  origin,  we  must  dis- 
criminate between  the  Pelasgi  and  Hellenes.  For  to  affirm  that  the  Pelasgi 
of  the  cities  above  named,  had  exchanged  their  own  language  for  another,  would 
be  a  wholly  gratuitous  supposition. 


44  CHAPTER  SECOND. 

the  Dorians,)^  and  the  Achaeans  were  so  eminent,  that 
they  deserve  to  be  regarded  as  the  chief  component  parts 
of  the  nation.  It  is  important,  in  order  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  people,  to  know  in  what  parts  of 
Greece  these  several  tribes  had  their  places  of  residence. 
But  these  places  did  not  remain  unchanged ;  the  event 
which  had  the  greatest  influence  on  them  for  the  suc- 
ceeding time,  happened  shortly  after  the  termination  of 
the  Trojan  war.  Till  then  the  tribe  of  the  Achasans  had 
been  so  powerful,  that  Homer,  who,  as  Thucydides  has 
already  observed,^  had  no  general  name  for  the  whole 
nation,  commonly  distinguishes  that  tribe  from  the  others  ; 
which  he  sometimes  designates  collectively  by  the  name 
of  Panhellenes.^  It  possessed  at  that  time  almost  all 
the  Peloponnesus,  with  the  exception  of  the  very  district 
which  afterwards  was  occupied  by  it  and  bore  its  name, 
but  which  was  then  still  called  Ionia  ;  and  as  the  terri- 
tories of  Agamemnon  and  Menelaus,  the  most  powerful 
of  the  Grecian  princes,  both  lay  in  that  peninsula,  the 
first  rank  was  clearly  due  to  the  Achaeans.  But  soon 
after  this  war,  it  was  the  lot  of  that  tribe  to  be  in  part 
subjugated  and  reduced  to  the  severest  bondage,"*  and  in 
part  to  be  expelled  from  the  lands  where  it  had  resided, 
and  confined  to  a  small  district,  which  from  that  time 
was    called   Achaia.     This  was  a   consequence  of  the 

'  Euripides,  enumerating  in  Ion,  v.  1581,  &c.  the  tribes  of  the  Hellenes, 
makes  no  mention  of  the  iEolians. 

-  Thucyd.  i.  3. 

•'  /7(/if/././;)f?  xul  'ylxaioi,  as  Iliad  ii.  530.  The  Hellenes  of  Homer  are  par- 
ticularly the  inhabitants  of  Thessaly  ;  but  the  expression  Panhellenes  proves  that 
even  tlien,  or  soon  after,  when  the  catalogue  of  tlie  ships  was  written,  the  name 
liad  begun  to  receive  a  general  application. 

*  The  Helots  of  tiic  Spartans  were,  for  the  most  part,  descendants  of  the  con- 
quered Acha;ans.     Theoponip.  ap.  Athen.  vi.  p.  265. 


EARLIEST   CONDITION    OF   THE   NATION.  ^  45 

immigration  of  the  Dorians,  under  the  direction  of  the 
descendants  of  Hercules  ;  of  which  immigration  the  chief 
object  was  the  conquest  of  the  Peloponnesus ;  but  it 
also  occasioned  a  change  in  the  places  occupied  by  most 
of  the  other  tribes  of  the  Hellenes.  From  this  time 
almost  the  whole  of  the  Peloponnesus  was  occupied  by 
the  Dorians,  and  the  kindred  tribe  of  the  Jiltolians,  who 
possessed  Elis ;  the  district  of  Achaia  alone  became  the 
property  of  the  Achaeans,  who,  being  in  quest  of  refuge, 
drove  from  it  the  lonians.  But  besides  this,  a  large 
part  of  the  rest  of  Hellas  was  occupied  by  tribes,  which, 
though  not  expressly  called  Dorians,  betrayed  by  their 
dialects  their  Doric  origin  ;  Boeotians,  Locrians,  Thes- 
salians,  and  even  the  Macedonian  Hellenes  belonged  to 
this  class  ;  and  although  the  inhabitants  of  the  western 
maritime  tracts  and  islands  were  at  first  called  iEolians, 
their  dialects  were  so  similar,  that  they  soon  ceased  to 
be  distinguished  from  the  Dorians.  This  powerful  tribe 
was  also  extended  towards  the  east  and  west  by  means 
of  its  colonies.  Several  of  the  islands  of  the  Archipelago 
were  occupied  by  them ;  and  they  flourished  on  the 
coast  of  Asia  Minor,  and  still  more  in  Lower  Italy  and 
Sicily,  and  their  colonics  bloomed  even  in  Africa  in 
Cyrene.  The  Ionic  branch,  as  far  as  we  know,  kept 
possession  of  no  part  of  the  main  land  of  Greece,^  ex- 
cepting Attica.^  But  Attica  alone  outweighed  in  glory 
and  power  all  the  rest  of  Greece.     Most  of  the  large 

'  The  other  lonians  and  even  the  Athenians  laid  aside  the  name ;  and  none 
formally  preserved  it  except  those  of  Asia  Minor.  Herod,  i.  143.  Hence  the 
extent  of  this  tribe  cannot  be  accurately  given  ;  and  indeed  no  attempt  should 
be  made  to  trace  every  little  Grecian  tribe  to  its  origin,  and  form  a  tree  of 
descent  for  them  all.  This  the  Greeks  themselves  were  never  able  to  do ;  but 
the  chief  tribes  remained  distinct. 


46  CHAPTER    SECOND. 

island  of  Eubcea  also  belonged  to  the  lonians  ;  many  of 
the  small  islands  of  the  Archipelago  were  entirely  occu- 
pied by  them  ;  and  while  their  colonies  in  Asia  Minor 
were  decidedly  superior,  their  colonies  on  the  coasts  of 
Italy  and  Sicily  were  but  little  inferior  to  those  of  other 
Grecian  tribes. 

From  the  earliest  times,  these  two  tribes  were  distin- 
guished from  each  other  by  striking  characteristics,  which 
were  not  removed  by  the  cultivation  which  was  becom- 
ing universal.  On  the  Doric  tribe,  the  character  of  se- 
verity is  imprinted,  which  is  observable  in  the  full  tones 
of  its  dialect,  in  its  songs,  its  dances,  the  simplicity  of  its 
style  of  living,  and  in  its  constitutions.  It  was  most 
strongly  attached  to  ancient  usage. ^  From  this  its  regu- 
lations for  private  and  public  life  took  their  origin,  which 
were  fixed  by  the  prescriptive  rules  of  its  lawgivers.  It 
respected  the  superiority  of  family  and  age.  The  gov- 
ernments of  the  Doric  cities  were  originally  more  or  less 
the  government  of  rich  and  noble  families  ;  and  this  is 
one  cause  of  the  greater  solidity  of  their  political  institu- 
tions. Good  counsel  was  drawn  from  the  experience  of 
age  ;  wherever  an  old  man  appeared,  the  young  rose 
from  their  seats.  Religion  among  the  Dorians  was  less 
a  matter  of  luxury  ;  but  it  was  more  an  object  of  which 
they  felt  the  need.  What  imjiortant  transaction  did  they 
ever  begin,  without  first  consulting  the  oracle  ?  —  All  this 
is  true  from  the  earliest  times.  When  once  the  reverence 
for  ancient  usage  was  overcome,  the  Dorians  knew  no 
bounds ;  and  Tarentum  exceeded  all  cities  in  luxury,  just 
as  Syracuse  did  in  internal  feuds.     After   this  tribe  had 

'  The  character  of  the   Doric  tribe,  as  well  as  its  history,  has  been  amply 
illustrated  by  C.  0.  I\I(lller,  in  his  History  of  Grecian  Tribes  and  Cities,  vol.  ii. 


EARLIEST   CONDITION  OF  THE   NATION.  47 

once  emigrated  to  the  Peloponnesus,  not  only  the  greater 
part  of  that  peninsula,  but  also  of  the  neighboring  main 
land  of  Hellas  was  occupied  by  it. 

The  lonians  were  on  the  contrary  more  distinguished 
for  vivacity  and  a  proneness  to  excitement.  Ancient 
usage  restrained  them  much  less  than  it  did  the  Dorians. 
They  were  easily  induced  to  change,  if  pleasure  could  be 
gained  by  the  change.  They  were  bent  on  enjoyment, 
and  seem  to  have  been  equally  susceptible  of  refined 
gratifications  of  the  mind  and  of  those  of  the  senses. 
They  lived  amidst  holidays ;  and  nothing  was  pleasant 
to  them  without  song  and  dance.  Their  soft  dialect 
brings  to  mind  the  languages  of  the  South  sea ;  but  in 
both  cases  the  remark  is  found  to  be  true,  that  a  soft 
language  is  by  no  means  a  proof  of  deficiency  in  warlike 
spirit.  In  the  constitutions  of  their  states,  hereditary 
privileges  were  either  rejected  at  once,  or  borne  with 
only  for  a  short  time.  The  supreme  authority  rested 
with  the  people,  and  although  it  was  limited  by  many 
institutions,'  the  people  still  decided  the  character  of  the 
government.  Any  thing  could  be  expected  of  these 
states,  rather  than  domestic  tranquillity.  Nothing  was 
so  great  that  they  did  not  believe  they  could  attain  it ; 
and  for  that  very  reason  they  often  attained  greatness. 

These  differences  in  the  natural  character  of  the  most 
important  tribes,  needed  to  be  mentioned  at  the  begin- 
ning. There  are  few  subjects  in  history,  which  have 
been  so  little  illustrated,  especially  with  reference  to  their 
consequences,  as  the  characters  of  nations  and  their 
branches.  And  yet  it  is  these  peculiarities,  which,  in  a 
certain  degree,  form  the  guiding  thread  in  the  web  of  the 
liistory   of  nations.     From   whatever  they  may  proceed, 


48  CHAPTER  SECOND. 

whether  from  original  descent,  or  the  earliest  institutions, 
or  from  both,  experience  teaches  that  they  are  almost 
indelible.  The  difference  between  the  Doric  and  Ionic 
tribes,  runs  through  the  whole  of  Grecian  history.  This 
produced  the  deep-rooted  hatred  between  Sparta  and 
Athens,  though  that  hatred  may  have  been  nourished  by 
other  causes ;  and  who  needs  to  be  told,  that  the  history 
of  all  Greece  is  connected  with  the  history  of  those  lead- 
ing states. 

The  difference  of  tribes  and  their  dispositions  was  also 
one  of  the  chief  causes  of  the  subsequent  political  parti- 
tions of  the  soil.  There  probably  was  never  a  land  of 
similar  extent,  in  which  so  large  a  number  of  states  sub- 
sisted together.  They  lived,  both  the  large  and  the 
small  ones,  (if  indeed  we  may  call  these  large,  which 
were  only  proportionally  so,)  each  after  its  own  customs ; 
and  hence  Greece  was  saved  from  the  torpor  of  large 
empires,  and  was  able  to  preserve  so  much  life  and  acti- 
vity within  itself. 

Of  the  earliest  history  of  the  nation,  we  can  expect 
only  fragments.  We  leave  it  to  the  historian  to  collect 
them  and  to  judge  of  their  value. ^  But  we  must  direct 
attention  to  those  general  circumstances,  which  had  a 
decisive  influence  on  the  earliest  progress  of  national  cul- 
ture, if  we  ^vould  form  correct  opinions  with  respect  to 
it.  Before  we  can  describe  the  heroic  age,  we  must  ex- 
plain the  influence  of  religion,  of  early  jioetry,  and  of 
forciign  emigrations,  and  show  how  they  served  to  intro- 
duce that  age. 

'  On  this  subject  I  refer  to  the  work  of  Professor  C.  O.  Milller  ;  Gescliiclite 
ilcllenischer  SUimme  unci  Stadte,  B.  i.  Orchornenos  und  die  Minyer;  B.  ii.  iii. 
die  Durier.     Mailer's  Orchornenos  and  the  Dorians. 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES   OF  CULTURE.  49 


CHAPTER  III. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  THE  CULTURE  OF  THE  GREEKS. 

RELIGION. 

It  is  not  easy  to  decide,  whether  the  culture  of  a  na- 
tion proceeds  originally  from  their  sacred  or  their  civil 
institutions.  The  character  of  the  domestic  relations, 
the  proper  application  of  the  means  provided  for  the 
easier  and  more  regular  support  of  life,  agriculture,  and 
husbandry,  constitute  the  first  foundation  of  national 
culture  ;  but  even  these  can  make  but  little  progress 
without  the  assistance  of  religion.  Without  the  fear  of 
the  gods,  marriage  loses  its  sanctity,  and  property  its 
security.  The  earthly  and  the  divine  arc  so  mingled  in 
our  natures,  that  nothing  but  a  continued  harmony  be- 
tween them  both,  can  elevate  us  above  the  mere  animal 
creation.  But  it  has  been  wisely  ordained  by  the  Au- 
thor of  our  being,  that  the  feelings  of  religion  can  be 
unfolded,  and  thus  the  character  of  our  existence  ennobled, 
even  before  a  high  degree  of  knowledge  has  been  attain- 
ed. It  would  be  difficult,  and  perhaps  impossible,  to  find 
a  nation,  which  can  show  no  vestiges  of  religion ;  and 
there  never  yet  has  been,  nor  can  there  be  a  nation,  in 
which  the  reverence  for  a  superior  being  was  but  the  fruit 
of  refined  philosophy. 

The  foundation  of  all  religion  is  the  belief  in  higher 
existences  (however  differently  these  may  be  represented 
to  the  mind),  which  have  an  influence  on  our  destinies. 

7 


60  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

The  natural  consequence  of  this  belief  are  certain  rites  of 
worship ;  invocations,  sacrifices,  and  offerings.  All  this 
is  so  connected  with  the  feelings  of  man,  that  it  springs 
from  within  him,  and  exists  independent  of  all  research 
or  knowledge.  And  this  is  the  religion  of  the  people. 
But  so  soon  as  the  intelligent  spirit  of  man  was  some- 
what awakened,  a  higher  principle  was  separated  (though 
in  very  different  ways)  from  this  simple  faith ;  and  that 
remained  in  the  possession  of  a  small  circle  of  priests,  of 
the  initiated,  of  the  enlightened.  If  the  religion  of  the 
people  reposed  only  on  belief  and  indistinct  conceptions, 
certain  doctrines,  on  the  contrary,  belonged  to  those 
higher  circles,  although  they  were  often  represented  by 
images,  and  exhibited  to  the  senses  by  outward  ceremo- 
nies. These  two  kinds  of  religion  commonly  remained 
distinct  from  each  other  ;  and  the  difference  was  the 
most  clearly  marked  in  such  nations,  as  had  a  cast  of 
priests.  But  still  there  were  some  points,  in  which  they 
both  were  united.  Even  a  cast  of  priests,  with  whatever 
secrecy  they  guarded  their  doctrines,  could  influence  the 
people  only  by  means  of  external  forms.  But  the  less 
the  order  of  priests  is  separated  by  a  nice  line  of  division 
from  the  mass  of  the  people,  the  more  faint  becomes  the 
distinction  between  the  religion  of  the  people  and  the 
doctrine  of  the  priests.  How  far  the  two  differed  from 
each  other,  and  remained  different,  must  ever  be  an  ob- 
ject of  learned  inquiry;  to  have  confounded  them,  has 
been  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  error  with  regard  to  the 
religion  of  the  ancients. 

Among  the  Greeks  there  never  was  a  distinct  cast  of 
priests,  nor  even,  as  we  shall  hereafter  observe,  a  sepa- 
rate order  of  priesthood.     And   yet,  beside  the  popular 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES   OF   CULTURE.  61 

religion,  they  had  a  religion  of  the  initiated ;  and  their 
mysteries  were  almost  as  ancient  as  the  faith  of  the  peo- 
ple. Each  of  these  must  be  considered  by  itself,  before 
we  can  draw  any  general  conclusion  respecting  the  influ- 
ence of  religion  on  their  character. 

The  popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  rested  on  a  belief 
in  certain  superhuman  beings,  and  in  the  influence  exer- 
cised by  them  over  the  destinies  of  mortals  ;  on  the  fear 
of  offending  them,  resulting  from  this  belief ;  and  on  the 
custom  of  worshipping  them.  Yet  according  to  the 
account  of  the  earliest  and  most  credible  witnesses, 
these  divinities  were  not  of  Grecian  origin ;  and  the 
learned  investigations  of  modern  writers  on  the  origin  of 
them  individually,  establish  the  fact  beyond  a  doubt. ^ 
"  The  Hellenes,"  says  Herodotus,^  "  have  received  their 
gods  of  the  Pelasgi ;  but  the  Pelasgi,  who  at  first  honored 
their  gods  without  giving  them  particular  names,  took 
the  names  of  their  divinities  from  the  Egyptians."  This 
account  of  the  historian  has  difficulties,  which  cannot  be 
entirely  cleared  away.  If  it  be  granted,  that  certain 
divinities  and  the  manner  in  which  they  were  wor- 
shipped came  from  Egypt,  we  may  still  ask,  how  could 
the  names  have  been  of  Egyptian  origin,  since  the  names 
of  the  Egyptian  gods  are  almost  all  known  to  us,  and 
are  very  different  from  those  of  the  Greeks.  We  learn 
of  Herodotus  himself,  that  it  was  common  for  the 
Egyptian  priests,  even  in  his  age,  to  institute  compari- 
sons between  their  gods  and  those  of  the  Greeks,  and  to 
transfer  the  names  of  the  latter  to  their  own  divinities. 

'  Compare,  above  all,  Crcuzer.  Symbolik,  b.   li.  s.  376,  &c.  and  Boltiger. 
Kunstmythologie,  Abschn.  i.  (tber  Zeus;  Abschn.  ii.  tlber  Juno. 
^  Herod,  ii.  50.  52. 


52  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

And  this  enables  us,  at  least,  to  explain  how  the  histo- 
rian, who  was  accustomed  to  hear  a  Jupiter,  a  Bacchus, 
a  Diana,  mentioned  in  Egypt,  could  have  thought  the 
matter  very  probable.  But  the  question  is  still  by  no 
means  answered.  For  if  the  Egyptian  priests,  in  the 
time  of  Herodotus,  applied  the  Grecian  names  to  their 
gods,  how  can  we  explain  the  alleged  fact,  that  the 
Greeks  first  borrowed  those  names  from  them  ?  There 
are,  however,  two  circumstances,  which  we  may  infer 
from  the  words  of  Herodotus  himself,  and  which  throw 
some  light  on  the  subject.  The  historian  has  not  con- 
cealed the  source  of  his  information.  These  assertions 
were  made  to  him  at  Dodona  ;  he  heard,  then,  a  tradition 
of  the  priests  of  that  place.  But  the  oracle  of  Dodona 
traced  its  origin  to  Egypt ;  can  we  wonder  then,  that 
its  priests  should  derive  the  gods  of  the  Greeks  from  the 
same  source  ?  Again  :  it  is  clear  from  Herodotus,  that 
the  Hellenes  did  not  receive  them  directly  from  the 
Egyptians,  but  through  the  Pelasgi ;  that  is,  they  receiv- 
ed them  at  second  hand.  We  shall  hereafter  remark, 
that  they  came  chiefly  by  way  of  Crete  and  Samothrace. 
Could  such  circuitous  routes  have  left  them  unchanged  ? 
And  is  it  not  probable,  that  the  Pelasgi  essentially  altered 
them  in  their  own  way,  before  delivering  them  to  the 
Hellenes  ?  Questions  of  this  kind  cannot  now  be  an- 
swered with  certainty ;  but,  however  many  of  the 
Egyptian  gods  may  have  been  introduced  into  Greece, 
it  is  certain  that  not  all  were  of  that  origin.  The  father 
of  history  has  not  forgotten  to  remark,^  that  Neptune, 
Juno,  Bacchus,  and  others  were  not  of  Egyptian  origin, 
and  this  has  been  fully  substantiated  by  the  acute  inves- 

'  Ilcrod.  ii.  50. 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES   OF   CULTURE.  53 

ligations  of  the  modern  inquirers,  whom  we  have  just 
cited. 

But  to  whatever  country  the  gods  of  the  Hellenes  may 
have  originally  belonged,  they  certainly  did  not  remain, 
in  Greece,  what  they  had  been  before.  We  need  but 
throw  a  glance  on  the  Grecian  religion  to  convince  our- 
selves, that  the  gods  of  the  Greeks  became  entirely  their 
property,  if  they  were  not  so  originally  ;  that  is,  the 
representations  which  they  made  of  them,  were  entirely 
different  from  the  conceptions  of  those  nations,  of  whom 
they  may  have  borrowed  them.  Wherever  Jupiter,  Juno, 
Neptune,  and  Phoebus  Apollo,  may  have  first  been  wor- 
shipped, no  country  but  Hellas  adored  the  Olympian  ruler 
of  the  world,  the  queen  of  heaven,  the  power  which  en- 
compassed the  world,  the  far-darting  god  of  light.  And 
it  was  the  same  with  the  rest.  What  the  Grecian  touched, 
became  gold,  though  before  it  had  been  but  a  baser  metal. 

But  if  the  popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  was  formed 
by  changing  the  character  of  foreign  gods,  in  what  did 
the  change  consist  ?  What  were  the  characteristics  of 
the  Grecian  assembly  of  divinities  ?  This  question  is 
important,  not  for  the  history  of  the  Grecian  religion 
alone,  but  for  the  general  history  of  relio;ion  itself.  For 
the  problem  is  nothing  less,  than  to  fix  on  the  essential 
ditference  between  the  religion  of  the  ancient  eastern 
and  western  world. 

This  characteristic  difference  rnav  yet  be  easily  dis- 
covered ;  and  may  be  reduced,  we  think,  to  a  single 
head. 

All  inquiries  relative  to  the  divinities  of  the  East,  even 
though  the  explanations  of  individual  ones  may  be  various, 
lead  to  the  general  result,  that  objects  and  powers  of  na- 


64  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

ture  lay  at  their  foundation.  These  may  have  been,  first, 
corporeal  objects,  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  the  earth, 
the  river  which  watered  the  country  ;  or  they  may  have 
been  powers  of  nature,  a  creating,  a  preserving,  a  destroy- 
ing power ;  or,  which  was  more  usual,  both  these  may 
have  been  combined  ;  and  visible  objects  became  objects 
of  adoration,  in  so  far  as  they  were  the  expressions  of  a 
creating  or  destroying  power.  When  the  gods  of  the 
Egyptians,  the  Indians,  the  Persians,  the  Phrygians,  the 
Phoenicians,  and  others,  are  analyzed,  even  in  cases 
where  the  interpretation  remains  imperfect,  it  cannot  be 
doubted,  that  some  idea  of  this  kind  lay  at  the  bottom, 
and  was  the  predominant  one.  They  had  but  one  signi- 
fication, as  far  as  this  idea  was  connected  with  it ;  and 
the  sacred  traditions  and  mythological  tales  respecting 
them,  seem  to  us  without  meaning,  because  we  have  so 
often  lost  the  key  to  their  interpretation.  "  The  Egyp- 
tians," Herodotus  relates,'  "  had  a  sacred  tradition,  that 
Hercules  once  appeared  before  Ammon,  and  desired  to 
see  his  face.  Ammon  refused,  and  Hercules  continued 
his  entreaties  ;  upon  this,  Ammon  slew  a  ram,  veiled 
himself  in  its  skiu,  put  on  its  head,  and  in  this  plight 
showed  himself  to  Hercules.  From  that  time  the  The- 
bans  ceased  to  sacrifice  rams  ;  only  once  a  year,  on  the 
festival  of  Ammon,  they  kill  a  single  one,  hang  its  skin 
round  the  picture  of  the  god,  and  show  at  the  same  time 
the  picture  of  Hercules."  Who  understands  this  story 
and  this  festival  from  the  mere  relation  ?  But  when  we 
learn  that  the  ram,  opening  the  Egyptian  year,  is  the 
symbol  of  the  approaching  spring,  that  Hercules  is  the 

'  Herod,  ii.  42. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF   CULTURE.  55 

sun  of  that  season  in  its  full  power,  the  storj,  as  well  as 
the  festival,  is  explained  as  descriptive  of  the  spring,  and 
as  a  figurative  representation  of  the  season  that  is  begin- 
ning. In  this,  as  in  similar  cases,  the  object  or  power  of 
nature  was  exhibited  under  a  human  form  ;  for  the  tend- 
ency to  copy  that  form,  is  too  deeply  fixed  in  our  natures  ; 
or  rather  it  results  immediately  from  the  limitations  of 
the  same.  But  in  all  such  cases  in  the  East,  where  the 
human  form  was  attributed  to  the  gods,  it  was  but  a 
secondary  affair,  the  indispensable  means  of  presenting 
them  to  the  senses.  It  was  never  any  thing  more.  And 
this  is  the  reason,  why  no  hesitation  was  made  among 
those  nations  to  depart  from  this  human  form,  and  to 
disfigure  it  whenever  it  seemed  possible  to  give,  by  that 
means,  a  greater  degree  of  distinctness  to  the  symbolic 
representation  ;  or  if  any  other  object  could  thus  be  more 
successfully  accomplished.  This  is  the  source  of  all 
those  singular  shapes,  under  which  the  gods  of  the  East 
appear.  The  Indian  makes  no  scruple  of  giving  his  gods 
twenty  arms  ;  the  Phrygian  represents  his  Diana  with  as 
many  breasts  ;  the  Egyptian  gave  them  the  heads  of 
beasts.  Different  as  these  disfigurations  are,  they  all 
have  their  origin  in  this ;  the  human  form  was  but  a 
subordinate  object ;  the  chief  aim  was  the  distinct  repre- 
sentation of  the  symbol,  under  a  form  suited  to  their 
modes  of  comprehension. 

As  the  Grecians  received  most  if  not  all  of  their  gods 
from  abroad,  they  of  course  received  them  as  symbols  of 
those  natural  objects  and  powers ;  and  the  farther  we 
look  back  in  the  Grecian  theogony,  the  more  clearly  do 
their  gods  appear  as  such  beings.  He  who  reads  with 
tolerable  attention  the  earlier  systems  as  contained  in 
Hesiod,  cannot  mistake  this  for  a  moment ;  and  it  cannot 


56  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

be  denied,  that  there  are  traces  of  this  origin  in  the  gods 
of  Homer.  That  his  Jupiter  designates  the  ether,  his 
Juno  the  atmosphere,  his  Phoebus  Apollo  the  sun,  is  ob- 
vious in  many  of  his  narrations.  But  it  is  equally  obvious, 
that  the  prevailing  representation  vv^ith  him  is  not  the 
ancient  symbolical  one,  that  rather  his  Jupiter  is  already 
the  ruler  of  gods  and  men,  his  Juno  the  queen  of 
Olympus. 

This  then  is  the  essential  peculiarity  of  the  popular 
religion  of  the  Greeks ;  they  gradually  dismissed  those 
symbolical  representations,  and  not  only  dismissed  them, 
but  adopted  something  more  human  and  more  subhme  in 
their  stead.     The  gods  of  the  Greeks  were  moral  persons. 

When  we  call  them  moral  persons,  we  do  not  mean  to 
say,  that  a  higher  degree  of  moral  purity  was  attributed 
to  them,  than  humanity  can  attain  ;  (the  reverse  is  well 
enough  known  :)  but  rather,  tliat  the  whole  moral  nature 
of  man,  with  its  defects  and  its  excellencies,  was  consi- 
dered as  belonging  to  them,  only  with  tlie  additional 
notions  of  superior  ])liysical  force,  a  more  delicately  organ- 
ized system,  and  a  more  exalted,  if  not  always  a  more 
beautiful  form.  But  these  views  became  tlie  prevailing 
ones,  the  views  of  the  people  ;  and  thus  an  indestructible 
wall  of  division  was  placed  between  Grecian  and  foreign 
<2,ods.  The  former  were  moral  beinjrs :  this  was  their 
leading-  character,  or  rather  all  their  character ;  they 
would  have  been  mere  names,  if  this  had  been  taken 
from  them  ;  but  with  the  barbarians,  their  gods  remained 
only  personifications  of  certain  objects  and  powers  of 
nature  :  and  hence  neither  a  moral  nature  nor  character 
!)elongcd  to  them,  although  the  human  shape  and  certain 
actions  and  |)owers  were  attributed  to  them. 

lia\iiii;    thus   illustrated   the    essential    diircrence    be- 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES     OF   CULTURE.  57 

tween  the  Grecian  and  foreign  gods,  and  shown  in  what 
the  transformation  of  the  foreign  gods,  adopted  by  the 
Grecians,  consisted,  the  question  arises,  how  and  by 
what  means  did  that  transformation  take  place  ? 

By  means  of  poetry  and  the  arts.  Poetry  was  the 
creating  power ;  the  arts  confirmed  the  representations 
which  she  had  called  into  being,  by  conferring  on  them 
visible  forms.  And  here  we  come  to  the  decisive  point, 
from  which  we  must  proceed  in  continuing  our  inquiry. 

"  Whence  each  of  the  gods  is  descended,  whether  they  < 

have  always  existed,"  says  the  father  of  history,^  "  and  | 

how  they  were  formed,  all  this  the  Grecians  have  but  j 

recently  known.     Hesiod  and  Homer,  whom  I  do  not  \ 

esteem  more  than  four  hundred  years  older  than  I  am,   \ 

are  the  poets,  who  invented  for  the  Grecians  their  theo-  j 

gony  ;  gave  the  gods  their  epithets;  fixed  their  rank  and  j 

occupations ;    and    described    their   forms.     The    poets,  I 

who  are  said  to  have  lived  before  these  men,  lived,  as  I  I 

I 
believe,  after  them."  ' 

This  reitiarkable  account  deserves  more  careful  atten- 
tion. The  historian  expressly  remarks,  that  this  is  his 
own  presumption,  not  the  assertion  of  others.  He  may 
certainly  have  been  mistaken ;  but  he  would  hardly  ex- 
press himself  so  explicitly,  unless  he  had  believ'ed  himself 
warranted  to  do  so.  We  must  receive  his  opinion  there- 
fore as  the  result  of  such  an  investigation,  as  could  in  his 
age  be  carried  on  ;  and  can  we  do  more  than  he  ? 

He  names  Homer  and  Hesiod  ;  and  naturally  under- 
stands by  them  the  authors  of  the  poems,  which  already 
bore  their  names  ;  the  two  great  epic  poems  of  Homer, 
and  at  least  the  Theogony  of  Hesiod.     The  case  does 

'  Herod,  ii.  53. 


68  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

not  become  changed,  even  if  those  productions  are, 
agreeably  to  a  modern  opinion,  the  works  of  several 
authors.  It  would  only  be  necessary  to  say,  it  was  the 
ancient  epic  poets  of  the  schools  of  Homer  and  of  Hesiod, 
who  formed  the  divine  world  of  the  Greeks  ;  and  perhaps 
this  manner  of  expression  is  at  all  events  the  more  cor- 
rect. For  it  would  be  difficult  to  doubt  that  the  succes- 
sors of  those  poets  contributed  their  share. 

According  to  the  assurances  of  Herodotus,  these  poets 
were  the  first  to  designate  the  forms  of  the  gods  ;  that 
is,  they  attributed  to  them,  not  merely  the  human  figure, 
but  the  human  figure  in  a  definite  shape.  They  distin- 
guished, moreover,  their  kindred,  their  descent,  their  oc- 
cupations ;  they  also  defined  the  personal  relations  of 
each  individual ;  and  therefore  gave  them  the  epithets, 
which  were  borrowed  from  all  this.  But  if  we  collect 
these  observations  into  one,  they  signify  nothing  less, 
than  that  the  poets  were  the  authors  of  the  popular  reli- 
gion, in  so  far  as  this  was  grounded  on  definite  represen- 
tations of  the  several  divinities. 

This  is  not  intended  to  imply,  that  Homer  made  it  his 
ol)ject,  to  be  the  creator  of  a  national  religion.  He  did 
but  make  a  poetic  use  of  the  previous  popular  belief. 
But  that  poetic  spirit,  which  left  nothing  indistinctly  de- 
lineated in  the  heroes  whose  deeds  he  celebrated,  bring- 
ing before  our  eyes  their  persons  and  their  characters, 
effects  the  same  with  the  gods.  He  invented  his  divine 
personages  as  little  as  he  did  his  heroes  ;  but  he  gave 
their  character  to  the  one  and  the  other.  The  circle  of 
his  gods  is  limited  to  a  small  number.  They  are  inhab- 
itants of  Olympus,  and  if  they  do  not  all  belong  to  the 
same  family,  they  yet  belong  to  the  same  place  ;  and  they 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES   OF   CULTURE.  69 

usually  live  together,  at  least,  when  that  is  required  by 
the  purposes  of  the  poet.  Under  such  circunistances,  an 
inferior  poet  might  have  felt  the  necessity  of  giving  them 
individuality.  And  how  much  more  a  Homer  ?  But 
that  he  executed  this  in  so  perfect  a  manner,  is  to  be 
ascribed  to  the  superiority  of  his  genius. 

Thus  the  popular  notions  entertained  of  the  gods  were 
first  established  by  Homer,  and  established  never  to  be 
changed.  His  songs  continued  to  live  in  the  mouth  of 
the  nation  ;  and  how  would  it  have  been  possible  to 
efface  images,  which  were  painted  with  such  strokes  and 
colors  ?  Hesiod  is,  indeed,  named  wdth  him  ;  but  what 
are  his  catalogues  of  names  compared  with  the  living 
pictures  of  Maeonides  ? 

In  this  manner,  by  means  of  the  epic  poets,  that  is, 
almost  exclusively  by  means  of  Homer,  the  gods  of  the 
Greeks  were  raised  to  the  rank  of  moral  beings,  possessed 
of  definite  characters.  As  such  they  gained  life  in  the 
conceptions  of  the  people  ;  and  however  much  may  have 
been  invented  respecting  them  in  the  poetry  of  a  later 
age,  no  one  was  permitted  to  represent  them  under  a 
figure,  or  with  attributes  inconsistent  with  the  popular 
belief.  We  soon  perceive  the  various  consequences, 
which  this  must  have  had  on  the  culture  and  improve- 
ment of  the  nation. 

The  more  a  nation  conceives  its  gods  to  be  like  men, 
the  nearer  does  it  approach  them,  and  the  more  intimately 
does  it  live  with  them.  According  to  the  earliest  views 
of  the  Greeks,  the  gods  often  wandered  among  them, 
shared  in  their  business,  requited  them  with  good  or  ill, 
in  conformity  to  their  reception,  and  especially  to  the 
number  of  presents  and  sacrifices  with  which  they  were 


60  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

honored.  Those  views  decided  the  character  of  religious 
worship,  which  received  from  them,  not  merely  its  forms, 
but  also  its  life  and  meaning.  How  could  this  worship 
have  received  any  other  than  a  cheerful,  friendly  charac- 
ter ?  The  gods  were  gratified  with  the  same  pleasures 
as  mortals  ;  their  delights  were  the  same  ;  the  gifts  which 
were  offered  them,  were  the  same  which  please  men ; 
there  was  a  common,  a  correspondent  enjoyment.  With 
such  conceptions,  how  could  their  holidays  have  been 
otherwise  than  joyous  ones  ?  And  as  their  joy  was  ex- 
pressed by  dance  and  song,  both  of  these  necessarily  be- 
came constituent  parts  of  their  religious  festivals. 

It  is  another  question  :  What  influence  must  such  a 
religion  have  had  on  the  morals  of  the  nation  ?  The 
gods  were  by  no  means  represented  as  pure  moral  beings, 
but  as  beings  possessed  of  all  human  passions  and  weak- 
nesses. But  at  the  same  time  the  Greeks  never  enter- 
tained the  idea,  that  their  divinities  were  to  be  held  up 
as  models  of  virtue  ;  and  hence  the  injury  done  to  mor- 
ality by  such  a  religion,  however  warmly  the  philosophers 
afterwards  spoke  against  it,  could  hardly  have  been  so 
great,  as  we  with  our  prepossessions,  should  have  at  first 
imagined.  If  it  was  not  declared  a  duty  to  become  like 
the  gods,  no  excuse  for  the  imitation  could  be  drawn  from 
the  faults  and  crimes  attributed  to  them.  Besides,  these 
stories  were  esteemed,  even  by  the  vulgar,  only  as  poetic 
inventions,  and  there  was  little  concern  about  their  truth, 
or  their  want  of  truth.  There  existed,  independent 
of  those  tales,  the  fear  of  the  gods  as  higher  beings,  who 
on  tlie  whole  desired  excellence,  and  abhorred  and  some- 
times punished  crime.  This  punishment  was  inflicted 
in  this  world  ;  for  the  poets  and  the  people  of  Greece  for 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES  OF   CULTURE.  61 

a  loDg  time  adopted  a  belief  in  no  punishment  beyond 
the  grave,  except  of  those  who  had  been  guilty  of  direct 
blasphemy  against  the  gods.^  The  system  of  morals 
was  on  the  whole  deduced  from  that  fear  of  the  gods, 
but  that  fear  especially  produced  the  observance  of  cer- 
tain duties,  which  were  of  great  practical  importance,  as, 
for  example,  the  inviolable  character  of  suppliants  (sup- 
plices),  who  stood  under  the  particular  protection  of  the 
gods  ;  the  sanctity  of  oaths,  and  the  like  ;  of  w  hich  the 
violation  was  also  considered  as  a  direct  crime  against 
the  gods.  Thus  the  popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  was 
no  doubt  a  support  of  morality  ;  though  never  in  the 
same  degree  as  with  us.  That  its  importance  was  felt 
as  a  means  of  bridling  the  licentiousness  of  the  people,  is 
sufficiently  clear  from  the  care  which  the  state  took 
during  its  better  days  to  preserve  the  popular  religion, 
and  from  the  punishments  inflicted  on  those  who  cor- 
rupted it  or  denied  its  gods.  When  we  may  name  the 
popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  in  one  sense  a  religion  of 
the  poets,  we  by  no  means  indulge  merely  in  a  play  of 
fancy.  But  if  the  influence  of  the  popular  religion  on 
the  moral  character  of  the  nation  should  be  differently 
estimated,  there  is  less  room  to  doubt  as  to  its  influence 
on  taste  ;  for  that  was  formed  entirely  by  the  popular 
religion,  and  continued  indissolubly  united  with  it. 

By  the  transformation  of  the  Grecian  divinities  into 
moral  agents,  an  infinite  field  was  opened  for  poetic  in- 
vention. By  becoming  human,  the  gods  became  pecu- 
liarly beings  for  the  poets.     The  muse  of  the   moderns 

'  The  reader  may  here  compare  an  essay  of  Hecrcn  on  tlie  notions  entertained 
by  the  Greeks  of  rewards  and  punieliments  after  death.  Heeren  ;  Historisclie 
Werkc,  Th.  jii.  s.  214. 


62  ~  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

has  attempted  to  represent  the  Supreme  Being  in  action ; 
she  could  do  so  only  by  giving  him  as  far  as  possible  the 
attributes  of  men ;  with  what  success  this  has  been 
attended,  is  known.  It  was  in  vain  to  endeavor  to 
deceive  us  with  respect  to  the  chasm  which  lay  between 
our  more  sublime  ideas  of  the  Divinity,  and  the  image 
under  which  he  was  represented.  But  the  case  was 
altogether  different  in  ancient  Greece.  The  poet  was 
not  only  allowed,  but  compelled  to  introduce  the  gods  in 
a  manner  consistent  with  popular  belief,  if  he  would 
not  fail  of  producing  the  desired  effect.  The  great 
characteristics  of  human  nature  were  expressed  in  them  ; 
they  were  exhibited  as  so  many  definite  archetypes. 
The  poet  might  relate  of  them  whatever  he  pleased,  but 
he  never  was  permitted  to  alter  the  original  characters ; 
whether  he  celebrated  their  own  actions,  or  introduced 
them  as  participating  in  the  exploits  of  mortals.  Al- 
though themselves  immortal,  they  always  preserved  the 
human  character,  and  excited  a  corresponding  interest ; 
with  their  weaknesses  and  faults,  they  stood  nearer  to 
man,  than  if  they  had  been  represented  as  possessing  the 
perfection  of  moral  excellence. 

Thus  the  popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  was  thoroughly 
poetical.  There  is  no  need  of  a  long  argument  to  show, 
that  it  also  decided  the  character  of  Grecian  art,  by  afford- 
ing an  inexhaustible  supply  of  subjects. 

On  this  point  a  single  remark  only  needs  here  be  made. 
Among  the  nations  of  the  East,  the  plastic  art  not  only 
never  created  forms  of  ideal  beauty,  but  was  rather  exer- 
cised in  producing  hideous  ones.  The  monstrous  figures 
of  tlieir  gods,  which  we  have  already  mentioned,  are 
})r()ofs  of  it.     The  Grecian  artist  was  secure  against  any 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES  OF   CULTURE.  63 

thing  similar  to  this,  now  that  their  gods  had  become 
not    merely    physical,    but  human,    moral  beings.     He 
never  could  have  thought  of  representing  a  Jupiter  or  a 
Juno  with  ten  arms  ;  he  would  have  destroyed  his  own 
work,  by  offending  the  popular  religious  notions.     Hence 
he  was  forced  to  remain  true  to  the  pure  human  figure, 
and  was  thus  brought  very  near  the  step,  which  was  to 
raise  him  still  higher,  and  give  ideal  beauty  to  his  images. 
That  step  he  would  probably  have  taken  without  assist- 
ance ;   but  the  previous  labors  of  the  poets  made  it  more 
natural  and  more    easy.     Phidias  found  in  Homer  the  | 
idea  of  his  Olympian  Jupiter,    and    the    most  sublime  | 
image  in  human   shape,  which  time  has  spared  us,  the  f 
Apollo  of  the  Vatican,  may  be  traced  to  the  same  origin.  \ 

Beside  the  popular  religion,  Greece  possessed  also 
a  religion  of  the  initiated,  preserved  in  the  mysteries. 
Whatever  we  may  think  of  these  institutions,  and  what- 
ever idea  we  may  form  of  them,  no  one  can  doubt  that 
they  were  religious  ones.  They  must  then  have  neces- 
sarily stood  in  a  certain  relation  to  the  religion  of  the 
people  ;  but  we  shall  not  be  able  to  explain  with  any 
degree  of  probability,  the  nature  of  that  relation,  until 
we  trace  them  to  their  origin. 

We  must  preface  this  inquiry  with  a  general  remark. 
All  the  mysteries  of  the  Greeks,  as  far  as  we  are  ac- 
quainted with  them,  were  introduced  from  abroad  ;  and 
we  can  still  point  out  the  origin  of  most  of  them. 
Ceres  had  long  wandered  over  the  earth,  before  she  was 
received  at  Eleusis,  and  erected  there  her  sanctuary.^ 
Her  secret  service  in  the  Thesmophoria,  according  to  the 

'  Isocrat.  Paneg.  op.  p.  46.  ed.  Steph.    and  many  other   places  in  MeurBii 
Eleusin.  cap,  i. 


64  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

account  of  Herodotus,^  was  first  introduced  by  Danaus, 
who  brought  it  from  Egypt  to  the  Peloponnesus.  Whether 
the  sacred  rites  of  Orpheus  and  Bacchus  originally  be- 
longed to  the  Thracians  or  the  Egyptians,  they  certainly 
came  from  abroad.  Those  of  the  Curetes  and  the  Dactyli 
had  their  home  in  Crete. 

It  has  often  been  said,  that  these  institutions  in  Greece 
suffered,  in  the  progress  of  time,  many  and  great  altera- 
tions, that  they  commonly  degenerated,  or  to  speak  more 
correctly,  that  the  Grecians  accommodated  them  to  them- 
selves. It  was  not  possible  for  them  to  preserve  among 
the  Greeks  the  same  character,  which  they  had  among 
other  nations.  And  here  we  are  induced  to  ask  :  What 
were  they  originally  ?  How  were  they  introduced  and 
preserved  in  Greece  ?  And  what  relation  did  they  bear 
to  the  popular  religion  ? 

The  answer  to  these  questions  is  contained  in  the  re- 
marks which  we  have  already  made  on  the  transforma- 
tion and  appropriation  of  foreign  gods  by  the  Hellenes. 
Most  of  those  gods,  if  not  all  of  them,  were  received  as 
symbolical,  physical  beings  ;  the  poets  made  of  them 
moral  agents  ;  and  as  such  they  appear  in  the  religion  of 
the  people. 

The  symbolical  meaning  would  have  been  lost,  if  no 
means  had  been  provided  to  ensure  its  preservation. 
The  mysteries,  it  seems,  afforded  such  means.  Their 
great  end  therefore  was,  to  preserve  the  knowledge  of 
the  peculiar  attributes  of  those  divinities,  which  had  been 
incorporated  into  the  popular  religion  under  new  forms ; 
what  powers  and  objects  of  nature  they  represented ; 
liow  those,  and  how  the  universe  came  into  being ;  in  a 

'  Herod,  iv.  172. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES   OF   CULTURE.  65 

word,  cosmogonies,  like  those  contained  in  the  Orphic 
instructions.  But  this  knowledge,  though  it  was  pre- 
served by  oral  instruction,  was  perpetuated  no  less  by 
symbolic  representations  and  usages  ;  which,  at  least  in 
part,  consisted  of  those  sacred  traditions  or  fables,  of 
which  we  have  already  made  mention.  "  In  the  sanctu- 
ary of  Sais,"  says  Herodotus,  "  representations  are  given 
by  night  of  the  adventures  of  the  goddess  ;  and  these 
are  called  by  the  Egyptians  mysteries ;  of  which,  how^- 
ever,  I  will  relate  no  more.  It  was  from  thence,  that 
these  mysteries  were  introduced  into  Greece."^  If  we 
find  in  this  the  chief  design  of  the  mysteries,  we  would 
by  no  means  assert,  that  this  was  the  only  one.  For  who 
does  not  perceive  how  much  more  could  be  connected 
with  it  ?  With  the  progress  of  time  a  greater  variety  of 
representations  may  have  arisen  in  the  mysteries  ;  their 
original  meaning  might  perhaps  be  gradually  and  en- 
tirely lost ;  and  another  be  introduced  in  its  stead. ^ 

*  Herod.  1.  c.   . 

*  The  investigation  respecting  the  mysteries  is  a  most  extensive  one,  and  yet 
very  little  has  thus  far  been  ascertained,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  highly  valuable 
work  of  St.  Croix,  especially  in  the  German  translation:  Versuch  ilber  die  alten 
Mysterien,  translated  by  Lenz,  1790.  I  refer  to  this  book  for  the  necessary 
proofs.  Tiiere  has  also  appeared  an  excellent  work  by  V.  Ouwaroff:  Essai  sur 
les  mysteres  d'Eleusis  :  Troisieme  Ed.  a  Paris  161G.  The  learned  author,  p.  Co, 
says  :  "  Nous  avons  essaye  de  prouver,  que  les  mysteres  religieux  de  la  Grcce, 
loin  d'etre  de  vaines  ceremonies,  enfermoient  effectivement  quelqucs  restes  de 
traditions  antiques,  et  formoient  la  veritable  doctrine  esotcrique  du  polythe- 
isme."  With  this  we  agree;  at  the  same  time  we  limit  the  esoteric  doctrine 
originally  to  the  meaning  which  the  Divinities  of  the  Greeks,  transformed  as  they 
were  into  poetic  beings,  still  possessed  as  representing  powers  of  nature  ;  yet 
without  excluding  the  inferences  made  above  in  the  text.  It  does  not  belong  to 
the  political  historian  to  pursue  this  investigation  any  farther ;  he  must  leave  it 
to  the  student  of  the  history  of  relitrions.  Yet  two  remarks  may  here  be  per- 
mitted. First :  Homer  and  Ilcsiod  say  nothing  of  mysteries  ;  which  may  very 
possibly  have  been  older  than  those  poets,  but  are  thus  proved  to  have  had  in 
their  time  less  importance  than  they  afterwards  gained.     And  this  is  immedi- 

9 


66  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

Those  passages  may  therefore  be  very  easily  explained, 
which  import  that  the  mysteries,  as  has  been  particularly 
asserted  of  those  of  Eleiisis,  illustrated  the  superiority 
of  civilized  over  savage  life  ;  the  invention  and  value  of 
agriculture,  to  which  the  worship  of  physical  deities  had 
immediate  reference ;  and  gave  instructions  respecting  a 
future  life  and  its  nature.  For  what  was  this  more  than 
an  interpretation  of  the  sacred  traditions,  which  were 
told  of  the  goddess  as  the  instructress  in  agriculture,  of 
the  forced  descent  of  her  daughter  to  the  lower  world, 
&c.  ?  And  we  need  not  be  more  astonished,  if  in  some 
of  their  sacred  rites  we  perceive  an  excitement  carried  to 
a  degree  of  enthusiastic  madness,  which  belonged  pe- 
culiarly to  the  East,  but  which  the  Hellenes  were  very 
willing  to  receive.  For  we  must  not  neglect  to  bear  in 
mind  that  they  shared  the  spirit  of  the  East ;  and  did 
they  not  live  on  the  very  boundary  line  between  the  East 
and  the  West  ?  As  those  institutions  were  propagated 
farther  to  the  west,  they  lost  their  original  character. 
We  know  what  the  Bacchanalian  rites  became  at  Rome ; 
and  had  they  been  introduced  north  of  the  Alps,  what 
form  would  they  have  there  assumed  ?  But  to  those 
countries,  it  was  possible  to  transplant  the  vine,  not  the 
service  of  the  god,  to  whom  the  vine  was  sacred.  The  or- 
iiies  of  Bacchus  suited  the  cold  soil  and  inclement  forests 
of  the  north,  as  little  as  the  character  of  its  inhabitants. 

iilely  explained,  so  soon  as  the  proper  object  of  the  mysteries  is  discovered,  by 
niakinir  the  dilierence  between  the  popular  rehgion,  as  modified  by  the  poetsj 
and  the  more  ancient  physical  religion  of  the  East.  Secondly  :  Diodor.  I.  p. 
■,!'.K'.  Tlio  mysteries  introduced  from  Crete,  are  said  to  have  constituted  the  pub- 
lic worship  of  the  Cretans.  It  was  in  Greece  then,  that  they  first  came  to  be 
my-^toriis.  Tiiis,  too, can  hardly  be  more  naturally  explained,  than  by  the  de- 
parture of  liie  popular  religion,  as  established  by  tlie  poets,  from  the  other  more 
aiiricnt  one. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  67 

The  secret  doctrines  which  were  taught  in  the  myste- 
ries, may  have  finally  degenerated  into  mere  forms  and 
an  unmeaning  ritual.  And  yet  the  mysteries  exercised 
a  great  influence  on  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  not  of  the 
initiated  only,  but  also  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people  ; 
and  perhaps  they  influenced  the  latter  still  more  than  the 
former.  They  preserved  the  reverence  for  sacred  things  ; 
and  this  gave  them  their  political  importance.  They 
produced  that  effect  better  than  any  modern  secret  socie- 
ties. The  mysteries  had  their  secrets,  but  not  every 
thing  connected  with  them  was  secret.  They  had,  like 
those  of  Eleusis,  their  public  festivals,  processions,  and 
pilgrimages  ;  in  which  none  but  the  initiated  took  a  part, 
but  of  which  no  one  was  prohibited  from  being  a  spec- 
tator. Whilst  the  multitude  was  permitted  to  gaze  at 
them,  it  learned  to  believe,  that  there  was  something 
sublimer  than  any  thing  with  which  it  was  acquainted, 
revealed  only  to  the  initiated  ;  and  while  the  worth  of 
that  sublimer  knowledge  did  not  consist  in  secrecy  alone, 
it  did  not  lose  any  of  its  value  by  being  concealed. 

Thus  the  popular  religion  and  the  secret  doctrines, 
although  always  distinguished  from  each  other,  united  in 
serving  to  curb  the  people.  The  condition,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  religion  on  a  nation,  are  always  closely  con- 
nected with  the  situation  of  those  persons,  who  are  par- 
ticularly appointed  for  the  service  of  the  gods,  the  priests. 
The  regulations  of  the  Greeks  concerning  them,  deserve 
the  more  attention,  since  many  unimportant  subjects  of 
Grecian  antiquity  have  been  treated  with  an  almost  dis- 
proportionate expense  of  industry  and  erudition  ;  but 
with  respect  to  the  priesthood  of  the  nation,  wc  are  as 
yet   left  without  any  investigation,  corresponding  to  the 


68  CHAPTER   THIRD. 

importance  of  the  subject.*  The  very  abundance  of 
matter  renders  it  the  more  difficult,  for  very  little  can  be 
expressed  in  general  terms ;  and  many  changes  were 
brought  about  by  time. 

During  the  heroic  age,  we  learn  of  Homer,  that  there 
were  priests,  who  seem  to  have  devoted  themselves  ex- 
clusively to  that  vocation.  We  readily  call  to  mind  a 
Calchas,  a  Chryses,  and  others.  But  even  in  that  age, 
such  priests  appear  but  individually ;  no  longer  in  col- 
leges or  societies,  as  the  colonies  of  priests  may  have 
been,  when  in  earlier  times  they  migrated  into  Greece  ; 
and  it  does  not  appear,  that  their  influence  over  the  rest 
of  the  people  was  very  great  and  important.  The  sacred 
rites  in  honor  of  the  gods,  were  not  performed  by  them 
alone ;  they  were  not  even  needed  at  the  public  solem- 
nities. The  leaders  and  commanders  themselves  offer 
their  sacrifices,^  perform  the  prayers,  and  observe  the 
signs  which  indicated  the  result  of  an  undertaking.  In 
a  ^Aord,  kings  and  leaders  were  at  the  same  time  priests. 

Traces  of  these  very  ancient  regulations  were  pre- 
served for  a  ion";  time  amono;  the  Greeks.  The  second 
Archon  at  Athens,  who  presided  at  the  public  ceremonies 
of  worship,  was  called  the  king  because  he  had  to  pre- 
pare tlie  sacred  rites,  which  were  formerly  regulated  by 
the  kings.  He  had  his  assistants  ;  and  it  was  necessary 
for  his  spouse  to  be  of  irreproachable  character,  as  she 
also  had  secret  religious  services  to  perform.  He  was, 
however,   like  the  other  Archons,  annually  appointed, 

'  The  Prolegomena  to  a  scientific  IMythology,  by  C.  O.  Miiller,  p.  249,  &c., 
contain  the  outlines  for  tiie  inquiry,  and  agree  with  the  remarks  made  above. 

•  Instead  of  all  otiicr  passages,  see  the  description  of  the  sacrifices  which  Nes- 
tor makes  to  Pallas.     Od.  iii.  430,  etc. 


N  ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE  69 

and  the  election  was  made  by  lot.^  The  priests  and 
priestesses  of  the  several  divinities  were  for  the  most 
part  chosen.  But  the  priestesses  could  be  married,  and 
the  priests  seem  by  no  means  to  have  been  excluded  by 
their  station  from  participating  in  the  offices  and  occu- 
pations of  citizens.  There  were  some  sacerdotal  offices, 
which  were  hereditary  in  certain  families.  But  the 
number  of  them  seems  to  have  been  inconsiderable.  In 
Athens,  the  Eumolpidae  possessed  the  privilege,  that  the 
hierophant,  or  first  director  of  the  Eleusinian  rites,  as 
well  as  the  other  three,^  should  be  taken  from  their  fam- 
ily. But  the  place  of  hierophant  could  not  be  obtained 
except  by  a  person  of  advanced  years  ;  and  those  other 
offices  were  probably  not  occupied  during  life,  but  fre- 
quently assigned  anew.^  How  far  the  same  was  true  in 
other  cases,  is  but  seldom  related.  At  Delphi,  the  first 
of  the  oracles  of  the  Hellenes,  the  Pythian  priestess  was 
chosen  from  among  the  women  of  the  city;"*  and  was 
obliged  to  have  no  intercourse  with  men.  It  is  hardly 
probable  from  the  extreme  exertions  connected  with  the 
delivery  of  oracles,  that  the  same  person  could  long  fill 
the  place.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  people  were  appointed 
for  the  service  without  the  temple,  some  of  whom,  like 
Ion  in  Euripides,  belonged  to  the  god  or  the  temple,  and 
were  even  educated  within  its  limits.  But  the  service 
within  the  temple  was  performed  by  the  most  considera- 


'  See  the  important  passage  in  Demosthenes,  in  Neaer.  Op.  ii.  p.  1370,  ed. 
Reisk. 

*  The  Daduchus,  or  torch-bearer;  the  Hieroceryx,  or  sacred  herald;  and  the 
Epibomius,  who  served  at  the  altar. 

*  St.  Croix  has  collected  examples  in  his  Essay  on  the  ancient  Mysteries. 
■•  Euripid.  Ion,  v.  1320. 


70  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

ble  citizens  of  Delphi,  who  were  chosen  by  lot.^  The 
sanctuary  of  Dodona,  where  the  responses  of  the  oracle 
were  made,  as  at  Delphi  and  in  other  temples,  by  priest- 
esses, seems  to  have  belonged  to  the  family  of  the  Selli, 
of  which  Homer  had  heard  f  but  we  have  no  particular 
accounts  respecting  the  situation  of  that  family. 

The  regulations  respecting  priests,  proposed  by  Plato 
in  his  books  on  laws,^  show  most  clearly,  that  the  ideas 
of  the  Greeks  required,  that  the  offices  of  priests  should 
not  long  be  filled  by  the  same  persons.  "  Let  the  elec- 
tion of  the  priests,"  says  he,  "  be  committed  to  the  god, 
by  referring  the  appointment  to  lot ;  those  on  whom  the 
lot  falls,  must  submit  to  an  examination.  But  each 
priesthood  shall  be  filled  for  one  year  only,  and  no  longer 
by  the  same  person ;  he  who  fills  it,  may  not  be  less 
than  sixty  years  old.  The  same  rules  shall  apply  to  the 
priestesses." 

We  infer  from  all  this,  that,  though  the  regulations 
respecting  the  priesthood  were  not  the  same  in  all  parts 
of  Greece,  that  office  was  commonly  filled  for  a  limited 
time  only,  was  regarded  as  a  place  of  honor,  to  w  hich,  as 
to  the  other  mysteries,  appointments  were  made  by  lot, 
w  ith  an  examination,  and  was  subjected  to  the  same 
rotation  with  the  rest.  They  to  whom  it  w^as  entrusted, 
were  taken  from  the  class  of  active  citizens,  to  which 
they  again  returned  ;  and  even  w^hilst  they  were  priests, 
they  were  by  no  means  withdrawn  from  the  regular  busi- 

'  See  the  important  passage  in  Eiiripid.  Ion,  414:  "  I,"  says  Ion,  speaking  to 
the  foreigner  on  tlie  service  of  tlic  temple,  "  I  liave  charge  only  of  the  outer 
part ;  the  interior  belongs  to  them  who  sit  near  the  tripod,  the  first  of  the  Del- 
phians,  whom  the  lot  selected. 

"  11.  XV.  ^35. 

^  Plato,  do  Leg.  1.  vi.  Op.  viii.  p.  2GG.  Bip. 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES  OF   CULTURE.  71 

ness  of  civil  life.^  The  priesthood  did  not  gain  even  that 
degree  of  firmness,  which  it  had  at  Rome ;  where  the 
priests,  though  they  were  not  separated  from  secular 
pursuits,  formed  separate  colleges,  like  those  of  the  Pon- 
tifices  and  Augurs  ;  and  the  members  of  them  were  cho- 
sen for  life.  Since  the  priesthood  then,  among  the  Hel- 
lenes in  general,  and  in  the  several  states,  never  formed 
a  distinct  order,  it  could  not  possess  the  spirit  of  a  party, 
and  it  was  quite  impossible  for  any  thing  like  priestcraft 
to  prevail.  Religion  and  public  acts  of  worship  were  so 
far  considered  holy  and  inviolable,  that  they  were  pro- 
tected by  the  state  ;  and  that  a  degree  of  intolerance 
was  produced,  which  led  even  to  injustice  and  cruelty. 
But  we  do  not  find,  that  the  priests  were  peculiarly  ac- 
tive in  such  cases.  It  was  the  people  which  believed 
itself  injured ;  or  a  political  party  ;  or  individual  dema- 
gogues, who  had  some  particular  object  in  view.^ 

As  the  priests  of  the  Greeks  formed  no  distinct  class  in 
society,  it  is  evident,  that  they  could  have  no  such  secret 
system  of  instructions,  as  was  possessed  by  those  of 
Egypt.  No  such  system  can  therefore  be  contrasted 
with  the  popular  religion  ;  instead  of  it  there  w^ere  the 
mysteries  ;  but  the  initiated  were  not  all  of  them  priests, 
nor  was  it  necessary  for  every  priest  to  be  initiated  into 
the  mysteries.     Any  could  be   admitted  to  them,  whose 

'  Not  even  from  the  duties  of  war.  The  Daduchus  Callias  fought  at  the  bat- 
tle of  Marathon  in  his  costume  as  a  priest.  Plutarch  in  Aristid.  Op.  ii.  p.  491, 
ed.  Reiske. 

^  Consult  above  everything  else,  the  oration  of  Andocides  on  the  profanation 
of  the  Mysteries,  delivered  on  occasion  of  the  well-known  accusation  of  Alcibi- 
ades  and  his  friends.  Did  we  not  know  that  a  political  party  was  active  in  that 
affair,  it  would  hardly  seem  intelligible  to  us.  It  gives  a  remarkable  proof  of  the 
ease,  with  which  the  passions  of  the  Athenians  might  be  aroused,  when  any 
attack  was  made  on  the  things  they  deemed  sacred. 


72  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

condition  in  life,  and  behavior,  were  found  to  deserve 
the  distinction. 

These  regulations  led  to  important  consequences. 
There  was  in  the  nation  no  separate  class,  which  claim- 
ed an  exclusive  right  to  certain  branches  of  scientific  and 
intellectual  culture  ;  and  preserved  that  exclusive  right 
hy  means  of  written  characters,  intelligible  only  to  them- 
selves. That  which  should  be  the  common  property  and 
is  the  noblest  common  property  of  humanity,  was  such 
among  the  Greeks.  And  this  made  it  possible  to  unfold 
with  freedom  the  spirit  of  philosophy.  The  oldest  phi- 
losophy of  the  Greeks,  as  it  appeared  at  first  in  the  Ionic 
school,  may  have  originally  stood  in  close  union  with  re- 
ligion, and  may  indeed  have  proceeded  from  it ;  for  who 
does  not  perceive  the  near  connection  between  specula- 
tions on  the  elements  of  things,  and  those  ancient  repre- 
sentations of  the  gods  as  powers  or  objects  of  nature. 
But  religion  could  not  long  hold  philosophy  in  chains. 
It  could  not  prevent  the  spirit  of  free  inquiry  from  awak- 
ening and  gaining  strength  ;  and  hence  it  was  possible 
for  all  those  sciences,  which  are  promoted  by  that  spirit, 
to  assume  among  the  Greeks  a  decided  and  peculiar 
character.  In  the  intellectual  culture  of  the  East,  all 
scientific  knowledge  is  connected  with  religion  ;  but  as 
these  were  kept  separate  by  the  Greeks,  science  gained 
among  them  that  independent  character,  which  distin- 
guishes the  West,  and  which  was  communicated  to  the 
nations  of  whom  the  Greeks  were  the  instructers. 

As  the  priests  never  formed  a  distinct  order,  and  still 
less  a  cast,  in  Greece,  the  religion  never  became  a  reli- 
gion of  state  to  such  a  degree  as  in  other  countries.  It 
was  sometimes  subservient  to   public   policy,  but  never 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  73 

became  a  slave  to  it.  The  dry,  prosaic  religion  of  the  Ro- 
mans could  be  used  or  abused  to  such  purposes  ;  but  that 
of  the  Greeks  was  much  too  poetical.  The  former  seems 
to  have  existed  only  for  the  sake  of  the  state  ;  and  the 
latter,  even  when  it  was  useful  to  the  state,  appears  to 
have  rendered  none  but  voluntary  services.  The  Patri- 
cians confined  the  popular  religion  of  Rome  within  the 
strict  limits  of  a  system  ;  but  in  Greece,  religion  pre- 
served its  freedom  of  character. 


COLONISTS    FROM    ABROAD. 

The  race  of  the  Hellenes  was  always  the  prevalent 
one  in  Greece  ;  but  it  was  by  no  means  unmixed.  The 
superior  advantages  of  the  country  invited  foreign  emi- 
grations, and  its  situation  facilitated  them.  Many  na- 
tions of  Thracian,  Carian,  and  Illyrian  origin,  descended 
at  different  times  from  the  North  by  land.^  These  colo- 
nists, at  least  such  as  remained  in  the  country,  may  by 
degrees  have  been  amalgamated  with  the  Hellenes  ;  but, 
being  themselves  barbarians,  they  could  not  have  contri- 
buted much  towards  softening  the  manners  of  the  nation  ; 
although  the  poets  of  Thrace,  an  Orpheus  and  his  school 
of  bards,  and  Linus  and  others,  were  not  without  influ- 
ence on  them.  The  case  was  far  different  with  those 
who  came  by  sea.  Greece,  as  we  observed  in  a  former 
chapter,'^  was  surrounded  at  no  great  distance  by  the 
most  cultivated  nations  of  the  western  world,  which  na- 
tions were   more   or  less  devoted   to  commerce  and  the 

'  Their  names  are  for  the  most  part  mentioned  by  Strabo,  1.  vii.  p.  404. 
'  Compare  the  close  of  chapter  first. 
10 


74  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

founding  of  colonies.  This  is  well  known  to  have  been 
the  character  of  the  Phoenicians,  and  it  is  equally  certain 
that  it  was  so  of  the  inhabitants  of  Asia  Minor  ;  and 
traces  of  Egyptian  colonies  are  found  no  less  in  Europe, 
than  in  Asia. 

If  no  accounts  had  been  preserved  of  colonies  of  those 
nations,  emigrating  to  Greece,  they  would  of  themselves 
have  seemed  highly  probable.  But  we  are  so  far  from 
being  without  accounts  of  this  kind,  that  they  have  been 
much  more  accurately  preserved,  than  the  remoteness  of 
the  time  and  the  condition  of  the  nation  would  have  au- 
thorized us  to  expect.  The  memory  of  them  could  not 
become  extinct,  for  their  consequences  were  too  lasting  ; 
and  if  events  which  for  so  long  a  time  were  preserved  by 
nothing  but  tradition,  are  differently  related  and  some- 
times highly  colored,  the  critical  student  of  history  can 
hardly  make  any  valid  objections  against  their  general 
truth,  if  the  narratives  are  interpreted,  as  the  mythical 
language  of  extreme  antiquity  requires.  The  first  of  the 
foreign  colonies,  which  are  mentioned  as  having  arrived 
by  sea,  is  that,  which,  under  the  direction  of  Cecrops, 
came  from  Sais  in  Lower  Egypt  to  Attica  ;^  fifty  years 

^  This  is  supposed  to  Iiavc  taken  place  about  1550  years  before  Christ.  The 
iniminrntion  by  C^ecrops  from  Egypt,  is  questioned  by  the  investigations  of  C.  O. 
INIiillcr,  in  llie  History  of  the  Hellenic  Tribes  and  Cities,  i.  p.  10(5,  &c.,  inasmuch 
as  Tlieoj)oinpus  is  the  earliest  writer  who  mentions  it.  But  Theopompus  must 
have  h.ul  before  hiui  an  earlier  authority.  That  a  belief  in  a  relationship  with 
tlie  Egyptians,  is  as  old  as  the  age  of  Solon,  appears  to  me  certain,  from  the  nar- 
ration of  Plato  in  Timanis,  (Op.  ix.  p  293,  etc.,  ed.  Bip.)  Further  inquiries  re- 
specting the  influence  of  F.gypton  Greece,  on  which  opinions  are  now  so  divided, 
will  probably  lead  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  truth  is  in  the  middle.  Want  of 
land,  excessive  po])uIation,  and  revolutions,  which  are  the  chief  causes  of  emi- 
gration, existed  nowhere  in  the  old  world  in  more  force  than  in  Egypt,  and 
particularly  at  the  time  assigned  for  the  emigration  of  Cecrops,  during  the  do- 
minion, and  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Hycsos  from  Lower  Egypt. 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES  OF   CULTURE.  75 

later,  Danaus  led  his  colony  from  Chemmis  in  Upper 
Egypt,  to  Argos  in  the  Peloponnesus.  These  emigra- 
tions took  place  at  the  period,  in  which,  according  to  the 
most  probable  chronological  reckoning,  the  great  revolu- 
tions in  Egypt  were  effected  by  the  expulsion  of  the 
Arabian  nomades ;  and  the  kingdom  was  restored  to  its 
liberty  and  independence  ;  a  period,  in  which  emigra- 
tions were  at  least  not  improbable.  The  colony,  which, 
as  Herodotus  relates,  was  brought  by  Cadmus,  together 
with  the  alphabet,  from  Phoenicia  to  Greece,'  needs  no 
farther  proof,  when  we  learn  how  extensive  were  the 
colonies  of  that  nation  ;  we  are  only  astonished,  that  we 
hear  of  but  one  such  in  Greece  ;  since  the  common 
course  of  things  would  rather  lead  us  to  expect  a  con- 
tinued immigration,  such  as  took  place  in  the  islands, 
which  became  almost  entirely  Phoenician.  Even  this 
doubt  vanishes,  when  we  regard  Cadmus,  not  as  a  person, 
but  as  the  symbol  of  the  Phoenician  colonies  in  Greece  ; 
although  the  early  and  distinct  notices  of  Cadmus  in 
Herodotus,  render  it  difficult  to  give  up  the  usual  repre- 
sentation. Nor  should  we  forget  the  establishment,  made 
by  Pelops  of  Lydia  in  the  peninsula  which  bears  his 
name.^  That  also  was  occasioned  by  the  events  of  war. 
Tantalus,  the  father  of  Pelops,  having  been  driven  from 
Lydia  by  Ilus,  king  of  Troy,  sought  and  found  in  Argos 
a  place  of  refuge  for  himself  and  his  treasures. 

Yet  very  different  answers  have  been  given  to  the 
question  ;  what  influence  had  the  emigration  of  those 
foreign  colonists  on  the  culture  of  the  Greeks  ?  And 
more  have  denied  than  have  conceded,  that  such  an  in- 
fluence was  exerted.      Where  cultivated    nations  make 

'   Herod    v.  58.  ■''  Strabo,  p.  2-2-I. 


76  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

establishments  in  the  vicinity  of  barbarians,  it  would  be 
wrong  to  infer  directly  the  civilization  of  the  latter,  un- 
less it  be  confirmed  by  distinct  evidence.  The  aborigines 
of  America  have  been  for  more  than  two  centuries  the 
immediate  neighbors  of  civilized  Europeans,  and  yet 
how  little  have  they  adopted  from  them  ?  And  if  doubts 
were  entertained  in  the  case  of  the  Greeks,  it  was  chiefly 
because  their  whole  national  culture  was  so  remarkably 
different  from  that  of  those  Eastern  nations,  that  the 
former  could  hardly  seem  much  indebted  to  the  latter. 

Yet  the  testimony  of  the  Greeks  themselves  proves 
such  an  influence  too  clearly  to  be  doubted.  Cecrops  is 
expressly  mentioned,  as  having  first  established  domestic 
union  among  the  inhabitants  of  Attica,  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  regular  marriages ;  and  as  having  built  the  citadel 
which  afterwards  bore  his  name.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  citadel,  which  Cadmus  built  in  Thebes  ;  and  if  we 
interpret  the  account  of  Herodotus  respecting  the  intro- 
duction of  the  alphabet  by  him,  to  mean  only,  that  the 
Hellenes  were  indebted  for  it  to  the  Phoenicians  (which 
on  the  w^hole  can  hardly  be  doubted),  the  case  would  not 
be  changed.  And  if  Pelops  not  only  emigrated  to  Argos 
with  his  treasures,  but  gave  his  name  to  the  peninsula, 
the  facts  admit  of  no  other  interpretation  than  that  his 
emigration  was  productive  of  the  most  important  conse- 
quences. 

But  farther.  These  foreigners  not  only  became 
princes  themselves,  but  made  the  royal  power  hereditary 
in  their  families.  The  earliest  kings  of  Attica,  Pandion, 
jEgeiis,  Theseus,  were  all  descended  from  the  house  of 
Cecrops,  although  only  by  the  female  side.  Perseus  and 
his  heroic  family  sprung  in  like  manner  from  the  family 


ORIGINAL   SOURCES     OF   CULTURE.  77 

of  Danaus.  When  we  name  Cadmus,  we  remember  at 
the  same  time  his  descendants,  the  favorites  of  the  tragic 
muse,  Laius,  (Edipus,  Eteocles,  and  Polynices,  the  rulers 
of  Thebes.  But  the  posterity  of  Pelops,  the  house  of 
Atrides,  excelled  all  the  rest  in  fame  as  in  misfortunes. 
In  this  manner  the  traditional  history  of  the  nation  is 
principally  dependent  on  these  families  from  abroad ; 
they  were  not  only  the  oldest  rulers,  but  the  memory  of 
them  continued  to  live  in  the  mouth  of  the  people  from 
age  to  age  ;  till  the  tragic  poets  conferred  on  them  im- 
mortality. It  is  impossible  that  such  a  continued  domi- 
nion of  those  families  should  have  had  no  influence  on 
the  nation.  To  assert  it  would  be  to  assert  what  is  in- 
consistent with  the  natural  course  of  things. 

If  these  immigrations  seem  to  have  been  occasioned 
by  political  causes,  others  had  their  origin  in  religion.  In 
modern  times  the  savage  nature  of  barbarians  has  been 
tamed  by  missions ;  but  although  antiquity  knew  and 
could  know  none  such,  the  early  part  of  our  present  in- 
quiries proves,  that  political  and  mercantile  ends  were 
none  the  less  connected  with  sanctuaries  and  oracles. 
Greece  received  its  colonies  of  priests  ;  by  which  we 
mean  the  establishments  of  sanctuaries  by  foreigners, 
who  brought  with  them  their  own  peculiar  forms  of  wor- 
ship. The  Homeric  hymn  to  Apollo  affords  a  remarkable 
proof,  that  such  institutions  were  entirely  in  the  spirit  of 
the  ancient  Grecian  world.  When  the  Pythian  god  was 
establishing  his  oracle  at  Delphi,  he  beheld  on  the  sea  a 
merchant-ship  from  Crete ;  this  he  directs  to  Crissa,  and 
appoints  the  foreigners  the  servants  of  his  newly-estab- 
lished  sanctuary,  near  which   they  settled  and  abode. ^ 

'  Homer.  Hymn,  in  ApoU.  390,  &c 


78  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

When  this  story,  which  we  would  not  affirm  to  be  his- 
torically true,  is  stripped  of  the  language  of  poetry,  it  can 
only  mean,  that  a  Cretan  colony  founded  the  temple,  and 
oracle  of  Delphi.  And  the  account  given  by  Herodotus 
of  the  Egyptian  origin  of  the  oracle  of  Dodona,  ceases 
to  surprise  us,^  although  that  oracle  owes  its  establishment 
to  another  cause,  the  Phoenician  slave-trade,  by  means  of 
which  two  consecrated  women  were  carried,  the  one  to 
Ammonium  in  Lybia,  the  other  to  Dodona.  If  we  knew 
more  certainly  who  the  Selli  were,  who  are  thought  to 
have  been  a  branch  of  the  Pelasgi,  and  are  said  by  Ho- 
mer^ to  have  been  the  serv-ants  of  the  god,  and  in  posses- 
sion of  the  oracle,  we  shotdd  probably  be  able  to  say  more 
than  we  now  can  respecting  its  history.  That  it  was  of 
Egyptian  origin,  is  acknowledged  not  only  by  the  sacred 
traditions  of  Dodona,  but  also  by  those  of  Egypt.  It 
was  im])ossible  for  these  settlements  to  assume  in  Greece 
the  aspect,  ^^  liich  they  took  in  Africa.  The  character  of 
the  country  and  the  spirit  of  the  people  were  alike  op- 
posed to  it ;  for  though  the  popular  religion  in  Greece 
was  not  wholly  unconnected  with  politics,  the  state  had 
never,  as  in  Egypt,  been  founded  entirely  upon  religion. 
But  those  settlements  became  the  central  point  of  socie- 
ties of  nations  ;  they  subsisted  as  oracles  ;  of  a\  hich  the 
Greek  stood  in  need  both  in  public  and  private  life. 

Similar  sacred  institutions  arose  very  early  on  several 
of  tlie  islands  round  Greece,  and  were  transplanted  from 
them  to  tlie  continent.  Those  of  Crete  and  Samothrace 
wcMc  tlie  most  important.  The  first  of  these  islands  oc- 
cupies, ill  iiKiuy  j)oints  of  view,  a  very  important  place  in 
the  most  ancient  history  of  Grecian  culture  :   but  the  cul- 

'    Ilcrod.  ii.  54.  -   [l.xvi.2:]4. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  79 

ture,  which  sprung  up  in  Crete,  seems  rather  to  have 
produced  early  blossoms  than  later  fruits.  All  that  we 
know  of  the  glory  of  Crete,  belongs  to  the  age  of  Homer 
and  the  preceding  times. ^  The  period  in  which  they 
cleared  the  sea  of  robbers  ;  exercised  supremacy  over  the 
islands,  and  a  part  of  the  country  on  the  shore,  even  of 
Attica  ;  and  received  their  laws  from  Minos,  the  familiar 
friend  of  Jove,  belongs  to  so  remote  an  age,  that  it  affords 
less  room  for  certainty  than  for  conjecture.  But  Crete 
still  appears  in  Homer  so  flourishing,  that  hardly  a  coun- 
try on  the  continent  could  be  compared  with  it.^  The 
situation  of  this  large  island  can  alone  serve  to  explain, 
how  it  came  to  precede  Hellas  in  culture.  It  lay  at  al- 
most equal  distances  from  Egypt,  Phoenicia,  and  Greece. 
If  it  was,  as  we  are  told,  the  country  of  brass  and  iron, 
and  if  these  metals  were  first  manufactured  there,^  the 
obscurity  which  covered  the  oldest  tradition,  is  at  once 
removed.  Late  investigations  have,  however,  led  to  more 
discriminating  views  ;  for  they  have  shown,  that  by  con- 
founding the  Ida  of  Phrygia  or  Asia  Minor,  with  the  Ida 
of  Crete,  many  things  have  been  applied  to  the  latter, 
which  should  have  been  restricted  to  the  former.^  The 
prevailing  minerals  in  Crete  do  not  contain  brass  and 
iron  f  and  Crete  has,  therefore,  been  improperly  regard- 
ed as   the  country  of  these  metals.     But  they  are  found 

'  See  the  rich  compiiation  of  Meiirsius  :  Crete,  Cyprus,  Rhodes.  1G75. 

*  Crete  awes  the  circling  waves,  a  fruitful  soil, 
And  ninety  cities  crown  the  sea-born  isle. 

Od.  xix.  172,  &c.  in  Pope  196,  &c. 

^  The  most  important  passage  in  Diodor.  v.  p.  3S1. 

*  Hoeck's  Kreta.  I.  Band. 

*  Hoeck,  I.  42.  and  the  appendix  by  Hausmann  on  the  character  of  the  geolo- 
gical formations  of  Crete,  p.  443. 


80  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

in  the  Ida  of  Phrygian  Ljdia ;  and  that  there  was  also 
the  home  of  the  fabulous  personages,  the  Dactjli  and  Cu- 
retes,  to  whom  tradition  attributes  the  first  acquisition  and 
working  of  iron,  is  apparent  even  from  the  account  in 
Strabo.^  Yet  they  and  their  worship  were  transplanted  to 
Crete  ;  and  with  them  the  working  of  iron,  which,  though 
not  originating  in  Crete,  could  easily  have  been  introduc- 
ed from  Asia  Minor  and  Cyprus.  Nor  can  any  one,  who 
is  familiar  with  the  origin  of  the  ancient  religions  of  na- 
ture, be  surprised  to  find  this  earliest  metallurgy,  connect- 
ing itself  with  a  worship,  which  generated  sacred  usages 
and  mysteries.^  As  far  as  we  can  judge,  the  immigration 
of  the  Dactyli  and  Curetes  into  Crete  belongs  to  the  age 
before  Minos  f  and  if  manufactures  of  iron  and  brass 
were  established  there,  the  immigration  into  the  island 
from  various  quarters,  by  the  Pelasgi,  Hellenes,  and  Phoe- 
nicians, are  easily  explained.^ 

'  Strabo,  p.  725,  and  Hoeck,  284. 

2  Diod.  I.  p.  331.  So  too  the  workmen  in  the  mines  of  Germany  abound  in 
superstitions. 

^  Hoeck,  I.  359.  first  appendix. 

*  They  are  enumerated  chronologically  by  Diodorus,  I.  p.  382.  Hoeck,  I.  52, 
proves  that  no  evidence  exists  of  immigrations  from  Egypt. 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  —  THE  TROJAN  WAR.        81 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE   HEROIC  AGE  — THE   TROJAN  WAR. 

Although  the  history  of  the  progress  of  the  Greek 
nation  during  the  early  period  of  its  culture,  is  imperfect 
and  fragmentary,  the  progress  itself  is  certain.  In  the 
age  which  we  best  designate  in  the  spirit  of  the  nation 
by  the  name  of  the  Heroic  Age,  and  which  extends  from 
about  the  thirteenth  to  the  eleventh  century  before  the 
christian  era,  we  find  them  advanced  to  a  far  higher  de- 
gree of  civilization,  than  that  of  which  by  their  own 
accounts  they  were  possessed  before.  The  poet  who 
delineates  them  in  that  stage  is  never  untrue  to  the 
poetic  character  ;  and  yet  Homer  was  regarded  even  by 
the  ancients  as  of  historical  authority  ;  and,  to  a  certain 
point,  deserved  to  be  so  regarded.  Truth  was  his  object 
in  his  accounts  and  descriptions,  as  far  as  it  can  be  the 
object  of  a  poet,  and  even  in  a  greater  degree  than  was 
necessary,  when  he  distinguishes  the  earlier  and  later 
times  or  ages.  He  is  the  best  source  of  information 
respecting  the  heroic  age ;  and  since  that  source  is  so 
copious,  there  is  no  need  of  drawing  from  any  other. 

When  we  compare  the  Greeks  of  Homer  with  those 
of  later  ages,  we  immediately  perceive  a  remarkable 
difference,  to  which  we  must  at  once  direct  our  atten- 
tion.    His  Greeks,  to  whatever  tribe  they  belong,  are  all 

equal  in   point  of  culture.     With  him,  the  Thessalian 
11 


82  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

differs  in  nothing  from  the  inhabitant  of  the  Pelopon- 
nessus,  nor  the  Etolian  from  the  Boeotian  and  Athenian ; 
the  sole  points  of  difference  which  he  marks,  are  merely 
personal ;  or,  at  most,  result  from  the  greater  or  smaller 
extent  of  the  several  territories.  Hence  we  infer,  that 
the  causes  which  afterwards  gave  the  inhabitants  of  the 
eastern  part  of  Hellas  so  great  an  advantage  over  those 
of  the  west,  had  not  then  begun  to  operate.  There 
must  rather  have  been  some  causes  of  general  influence, 
to  produce  that  early  progress ;  and  therefore  we  have 
less  reason  to  fear  that  we  were  mistaken  in  assigning 
the  first  place  among  them  to  religion. 

Yet  religion  had  no  influence  in  exciting  and  develop- 
ing that  heroic  spirit,  which  is  the  characteristic  of  the 
age.  In  those  later  centuries  of  the  middle  age  which 
embrace  the  christian  heroic  age,  a  devotional  spirit 
formed  a  prominent  feature  in  the  character  of  a  knight ; 
but  nothing  like  this  is  to  be  found  among  the 
Greeks.  The  Grecian  heroes  always  preserve  a  belief  in 
the  gods  ;  are  intimately  and  directly  united  with  them  ; 
are  sometimes  persecuted  and  sometimes  protected  by 
them ;  but  they  do  not  fight  for  their  religion,  like  the 
christian  knights.  Such  an  idea  could  never  occur  to 
them ;  for  their  representations  of  their  gods  did  not 
admit  of  it.  And  here  we  remark  one  great  point  of 
difference  between  the  Grecian  and  christian  heroic  cha- 
racter. A  second,  to  which  we  shall  return  directly,  re- 
sults from  the  different  condition  of  the  other  sex.  But 
another  prominent  trait  is  common  to  both  ;  the  propen- 
sity to  extraordinary  and  bold  undertakings,  not  only  at 
home,  but  in  foreign  lands,  in  countries  beyond  the  sea, 
and  of  which  tradition  had,  for  the  most  part,  spread 


THE   HEROIC  AGE  — THE  TROJAN   WAR.  83 

none  but  indistinct  accounts.  This  propensity  was  first 
awakened  by  the  early  immigrations  of  the  Hellenes.  But 
the  exploits  of  the  oldest  heroes  among  the  Greeks,  Me- 
leager,  Tydeus,  and  others,  before  Hercules  and  Jason, 
were  performed  at  home  ;  and  even  those  which  are  said 
to  have  been  performed  by  Hercules  out  of  Greece,  are 
probably  a  later  fiction,  invented  at  the  time  when  his 
name  was  first  added  to  the  number  of  the  Argonauts, 
and  the  Grecian  Hercules  was  confounded  with  the 
Phoenician.  Adventures  in  foreign  regions  begin  with 
Jason  and  the  Argonautic  expedition ;  and  those  adven- 
tures were  destined  soon  to  end  in  a  general  union  of 
the  nation  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on  a  war  beyond 
the  sea. 

As  far  as  we  can  judge  amidst  the  uncertainty  of  the 
chronology  of  that  period,  this  adventurous  spirit  appears 
to  have  been  awakened  in  the  century  immediately  pre- 
ceding the  Trojan  war.  According  to  all  possible  chro- 
nological combinations,  we  must  refer  to  this  period  the 
expedition  of  the  Argonauts  and  the  undertaking  of 
Theseus  against  Crete ;  which  events  happened  soon 
after  the  dominion  of  the  sea  had  been  gained  for  that 
island  by  Minos.  The  general  condition  of  Greece  in 
that  period  explains,  in  some  measure,  why  the  limits  of 
that  country  began  to  grow  too  narrow,  and  a  new 
theatre  for  the  display  of  enterprise  to  be  sought  for. 
The  whole  of  Greece  previous  to  the  Trojan  war,  appears 
to  have  enjoyed  perfect  tranquillity  within  its  own 
boundaries.  The  limits  of  the  small  districts  into  which 
Greece  was  divided,  seem  already  to  have  been  defini- 
tively established.  We  hear  of  no  contention  respecting 
them  on  the  part  of  the  princes  ;  and  Homer  was  able  to 


84  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

enumerate  the  several  possessions  with  precision.  The 
war  of  the  seven  against  Thebes  had  its  origin  in  family 
discord  ;  and  the  claims  of  the  exiled  Heraclidae  were 
not  made  valid  till  a  more  recent  age.  It  was  on  the 
whole  an  age  of  internal  peace,  notwithstanding  some 
interruptions.  In  such  an  age  there  was  little  opportu- 
nity for  heroic  exploits  at  home  ;  and  what  was  more 
natural  than  that  the  warlike  spirit  which  was  once 
roused,  should  go  in  quest  of  them  abroad  ? 

But  such  was  the  situation  of  the  country,  that  this 
could  take  place  only  by  sea.  There  was  in  the  North, 
nothing  which  could  invite  the  spirit  of  enterprise  ;  and 
the  country  in  that  direction  was  possessed  by  warlike 
nations.  On  the  other  hand,  the  reports  which  came  to 
the  Greeks  respecting  the  land  beyond  the  sea,  were 
numerous  ;  even  though  they  may  have  been  brought  by 
none  but  the  Phoenicians.  The  countries  and  nations 
which  were  the  chief  objects  of  the  voyages  of  that  com- 
mercial people,  the  Cimmerians  in  the  North,  the  Loto- 
phagi,  and  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides  on  the  coast  of 
Lybia  ;  Sicily  with  its  wonders,  the  Cyclops,  and  Scylla 
and  Charybdis ;  and  even  Spain  with  the  mighty  Geryon 
and  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  are  dimly  seen  in  the  earliest 
Grecian  mythology.  These  traditions  did  much  towards 
awakening  the  spirit  of  adventure,  and  thus  occasioned 
the  Argonautic  expedition. 

These  early  voyages,  by  which  so  much  activity  was 
awakened,  and  so  much  energy  called  into  action,  were 
the  chief  means  by  which  the  circle  of  ideas  in  the  na- 
tion was  enlarged.  This  is  obvious  from  those  ancient 
mytholoiiical  tales,  which  were  thus  introduced,  and 
which  were  the  fruit  of  the   increased  intercourse  with 


THE  HEROIC' AGE  — THE  TROJAN   WAR.  85 

foreign  countries.  The  geography  of  Homer,  limited  as 
it  is,  not  only  extends  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  his  na- 
tive land  ;  but  shows  a  manifest  desire  of  discovering  the 
farthest  limits  of  the  earth.  The  ocean  stream  which 
flowed  round  it,  is  mentioned ;  the  regions  are  named, 
in  which  the  sun  has  the  gates  of  its  rising  and  setting  ; 
even  the  entrance  to  the  lower  world  is  known.  The 
obscurity  in  which  all  this  was  veiled,  served  but  to  ex- 
cite the  adventurous  spirit,  when  once  aroused,  to  new 
undertakings. 

The  internal  political  condition  of  Greece  in  the  heroic 
age  was  in  one  respect  similar  to  that  of  a  later  period ; 
and  in  another  essentially  different.  It  was  similar  in 
the  division  into  small  territories  ;  but  it  was  altogether 
different  in  the  constitutions  of  the  states. 

The  division  into  territories,  a  result  of  tiie  variety  of 
the  tribes,  was  in  those  times  as  great,  or  perhaps  greater 
than  in  more  recent  ones.  The  district  of  Thessaly 
alone  contained,  in  Homer's  time,  no  less  than  ten  small 
states,  eacli  of  which  had  its  prince  or  leader.  In  the 
central  part  of  Greece,  the  Boeotians  had  five  principali- 
ties ;^  the  Minyes,  whose  capital  was  Orchomenus,  the 
Locrians,^  the  Athenians,  the  Phocians,  had  each  their 
own  ruler.  In  the  Peloponnesus,  there  existed,  inde- 
pendent of  each  other,  the  kingdoms  of  Argos,  of  My- 
cenae, of  Sparta,  of  Pylus,  that  of  the  Elians,  divided 
under  four  heads,  and  Arcadia.  Many  of  the  islands  also 
had  their  own  princes.  On  the  west  side,  the  govern- 
ment of  Ulysses  embraced,   beside   Ithaca,  the  islands 

'  U.  ii.  catalog,  nav.  1.  &c.  where  also  the  passages  may  he  found,  which  serve 
as  proofs  of  the  following  statements. 
-  The  Opuntii  ind  Epicnemidii.     Homer  makes  no  mention  of  the  Ozolaj. 


86  CHAPTER   FOURTH. 

Zacjnthus  and  Cephallene,  and  Epirus  which  lies  over 
against  it.  The  flourishing  island  of  Crete  was  swajed 
by  Idomeneus  ;  Salamis  by  Ajax  ;  Eiibcea,  inhabited  by 
the  Abantes,  Rhodes,  and  Cos  had  their  own  rulers  ; 
iEgina  and  probably  others  of  the  small  islands  belonged 
to  the  neighboring  princes. 

This  political  division  was  therefore  from  the  earliest 
times  a  peculiarity  of  Greece  ;  and  it  never  ceased  to  be 
so.  And  here  it  is  natural  to  ask,  how  it  could  have  con- 
tinued so  long  ?  How  happened  it,  that  amidst  the  early 
civil  wars,  and  especially  the  later  superiority  of  the  Do- 
ric tribe,  the  supremacy  of  an  individual  state  was  never 
established  ?  One  principal  cause  of  this  is  to  be  found 
in  the  natural  geographical  divisions  of  the  country, 
which  we  have  described  in  a  former  chapter ;  another, 
no  less  important,  seems  to  lie  in  the  internal  division 
of  the  several  tribes.  Even  where  those  of  the  same 
tribe  made  their  settlements,  they  were  immediately 
split  into  separate  townships.  According  to  these,  the 
troops  of  soldiers  are  distinguished  in  Homer.  Proofs 
of  it  are  found  in  all  parts  of  his  poems,  especially  in  the 
catalogue  of  the  ships.  If  these  townships  stood  under 
one  common  head,  they  were  still  united  only  by  a  feeble 
bond.  The  germ  of  division  was  deeply  fixed,  even  in 
those  earlier  times  ;  and  as  it  unfolded,  it  was  destined 
to  mature  the  whole  subsequent  political  condition  of 
Greece. 

Yet  though  tlie  divisions  of  the  country  were  then  as 
numerous,  the  forms  of  government  in  those  early  times 
were  entirely  different  from  the  later  ones.  We  meet 
with  no  governments  but  those  of  princes  or  kings  ;  there 
were  then   no   republics ;    and    yet   republicanism  was 


THE  HEROIC   AGE— THE  TROJAN  WAR.  87 

eventually  to  decide  the  political  character  of  Greece. 
These  monarchical  constitutions,  if  that  name  may  be 
applied  to  them,  were  rather  the  outlines  of  constitutions 
than  regular,  finished  forms  of  government.  They  were 
a  consequence  of  the  most  ancient  condition  of  the  na- 
tion, when  either  ruling  families  sprung  up  in  the  several 
tribes  ;  or  the  leaders  of  foreign  colonies  had  known  how 
to  secure  to  themselves  and  their  posterity  the  govern- 
ment over  the  natives.  The  families  of  Peleus,  Cad- 
mus, Pelops,  and  others,  have  already  been  mentioned. 
It  was  a  great  recommendation  of  the  later  rulers,  to  be 
able  to  trace  their  lineage  to  one  of  the  ancient  heroes 
or  gods  ;  and  Alexander  himself  sought  the  confirmation 
of  his  own  descent  from  the  temple  of  Ammon.  But 
though  much  depended  on  descent,  we  learn  from  ob- 
serving those  ancient  families,  that  it  was  not  only  neces- 
sary that  the  founder  of  the  family  should  be  a  hero,  but, 
if  its  elevation  was  to  be  preserved,  that  many  heroes 
like  him  should  arise  among  his  posterity.  For  this  the 
houses  of  "Pelops  and  Cadmus  were  the  most  illustrious. 
But  only  certain  branches  of  the  family  of  Hercules,  the 
first  of  Grecian  heroes,  were  remembered  by  the  nation, 
while  others  passed  into  oblivion.  The  Greeks  paid  re- 
spect to  birth,  yet  they  never  attributed  every  thing  to 
it ;  and  if  in  those  republican  times,  the  noble  families 
were  preserved  distinct  from  the  rest,  their  superiority 
depended  seldom  on  birth  alone  ;  and  no  line  was  drawn 
between  them  and  the  rest  of  the  people,  such  as  divided 
the  Patricians  from  the  Plebeians  in  the  early  period  of 
Roman  history.  The  correct  feeling  of  the  Greeks  is 
observable  in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  things.  The  re- 
spect for  their  illustrious   families  was  continued  in  the 


88  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

recollection  of  their  actions ;  but  the  descendants  were 
not  long  permitted  to  live  on  the  fame  of  their  fore- 
fathers. 

The  constitutions  of  the  heroic  age  were  the  result  of 
circumstances,  and  wants  which  were  felt.  Esteem  for 
the  ruling  families  secured  to  them  the  government ;  but 
their  power  was  not  strictly  hereditary.  Princes  were 
not  much  more  than  the  first  amongst  their  peers ;  even 
the  latter  were  sometimes  denominated  princes.'  The 
son  had  commonly  the  precedence  over  others  in  the 
succession ;  but  his  claim  was  measured  by  his  personal 
qualifications  for  the  station.^  It  was  his  first  duty  to 
lead  in  war  ;  and  he  could  not  do  this,  unless  he  was 
himself  distinguished  for  courage  and  strength.  His 
privileges  in  peace  were  not  great.  He  called  together 
the  popular  assembly,  which  was  chiefly,  if  not  exclu- 
sively, composed  of  the  older  and  more  distinguished  citi- 
zens.^ Here  the  king  had  his  own  seat ;  the  ensign  of 
his  dignity  was  a  sceptre  or  staff.  He  had  the  right  of 
addressing  the  assembly,  which  was  done  standing.  In 
all  important  events  he  was  bound  to  consult  the  people. 
In  addition  to  this  he  sometimes  acted  as  judge  ;'*  but  not 
always  ;  for  the  administration  of  justice  was  often  com- 
mitted to  an  assembly  of  the  elders.^  Nothing  was 
known  of  particular  taxes  paid  to  the  king.  His  supe- 
riority consisted  in  a  piece  of  land,  and  a  larger  part  of 


'  As,  in  Od.  viii.  41.  the  ay.r^muvxoi  (iaoiXfjtg  of  Ithaca. 

^  Observe  llie  description  of  the  situation  of  Telemachus  in  this  respect. 
Odyss.  i.  ;3'J2,  &c. 

^  Compare  the  description  of  the  assembly  of  Phaacians.     Odyss.  viii. 

*  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  14.  2TQuri;yt>;  y'un  >^v  y.al  Sixaaxr^i  6  ^aautvc,  xctl  twv 
TiQog  SsaC;  y.v'^no:. 

"  See  e.  g.  the  representation  on  the  shield  of  Achilles.     II.  xviii.  504. 


THE   HEROIC  AGE  — THE  TROJAN   WAR.  89 

the  booty.  Excepting  this,  he  derived  his  support  from 
his  own  possessions  and  the  produce  of  his  fields  and 
herds.  The  preservation  of  his  dignity  required  an  al- 
most unbounded  hospitality.  His  house  was  the  place 
of  assembly  for  persons  of  the  upper  class,  who  almost 
always  sat  at  table  with  him  ;  to  turn  away  strangers, 
who  asked  for  shelter,  or  only  seemed  to  stand  in  need 
of  it,  would  have  been  an  unexampled  outrage.^ 

Greece,  even  in  those  times,  was  a  thickly  peopled 
and  well  cultivated  coiintrv.  What  a  crowd  of  cities  is 
enumerated  by  the  poet !  And  we  must  not  imagine 
these  to  have  been  open  towns  with  scattered  habitations. 
The  epithets  applied  to  them  frequently  prove  the  reverse. 
They  are  in  part  surrounded  with  walls  ;  have  gates  and 
regular  streets.^  Yet  the  houses  stand  by  themselves  ; 
having  in  front  a  court,  and  in  the  rear  a  garden.^ 
Such  at  least  were  the  houses  of  the  most  respectable. 
Others  appear  to  stand  directly  on  the  street  without  any 
court  in  front.  In  the  middle  of  the  city  there  is  a  pub- 
lic square  or  marketplace;  the  common  place  of  assem- 
bly for  the  citizens,  whether  on  solemn  occasions,  or  for 
deliberation,  or  courts  of  justice,  or  any  other  purpose. 
It  is  surrounded  with  seats  of  stone,  on  which  the  distin- 
guished men  are  wont  on  such  occasions  to  take  their 
places.^  No  trace  is  to  be  found  of  any  pavement  in  the 
streets. 

'  How  warmly  Menelaus    reproaches    Eteoneus    for    proposing    to    send  the 
strangers  somewhere  else.     Od.  iv.  31. 

"  E.  g.     Athens  with  broad   streets  (itovuyvta).  Od.  vii.  8.     Gortys  with  firm 
walls  (Tii/i'Jinnci)  ;  and  others. 

'  Thus  the  palace  of  Mcnelaus,  Od.   ii. ;  and   of  Alcinous,  Od.  vii.  Others  on 
the  street.     II.  xviii.  4%. 

■•  The  city  of  the  Phteaciana,  Od.  vii.  gives  proof  of  all  tliis. 
12 


90  CHAPTER   FOURTH. 

The  different  branches  of  agriculture  were  already  well 
advanced.  Property  in  lands  was  universal ;  of  which 
the  boundaries  were  fixed  by  measurement,  and  often 
designated  by  stones.^  The  poet  describes  to  us  the  va- 
rious labors  of  farming,  ploughing,  whether  with  oxen  or 
mules,  sowing,  reaping,  binding  the  sheaves,  and  treading 
out  the  corn  by  oxen  on  the  threshing-floor.  Nor  does  he 
omit  to  mention  the  culture  of  the  grape,  the  tilling  of 
gardens,  and  the  various  duties  of  the  herdsman.^  It 
may  be  doubted  whether  the  soil  was  much  better  culti- 
vated in  the  most  flourishing  period  of  Grecian  history. 

The  houses  of  the  heroes  were  large  and  spacious,  and 
at  the  same  time  suited  to  the  climate.  The  court  was 
surrounded  by  a  gallery,  about  which  the  bedchambers 
were  built.  There  was  a  direct  entrance  from  the  court 
to  the  hall,  which  was  the  common  place  of  resort.^ 
Movable  seats  Qfodvoi)  stood  along  the  sides  of  the  walls. 
Every  thing  glistened  with  brass.  On  one  side  was  a 
place  of  deposit,  where  the  arms  were  kept.  In  the 
back  ground  was  the  hearth,  and  the  seat  for  the  lady  of 
the  mansion,  when  she  made  her  appearance  below. 
Several  steps  conducted  from  thence  to  a  higher  gallery, 
near  which  were  the  chambers  of  the  women,  where 
they  were  employed  in  household  labors,  especially  in 
weaving.  Several  outhouses  for  the  purpose  of  grinding 
and  baking,  were  connected  with  the  house  ;  others  for 
the  common   habitations  of  the  male  and  female  slaves  ; 

'   II.  xii.  421,  xxi.  405. 

"  I  nocd  only  call  t,o  mind  the  representations  on  the  shield  of  Achilles.  II. 
xviii.  .'")4(),  A:c. 

2  Tiie  abovenientioned  mansions  of  Menelaus  and  Alcinous  best  illustrate  this 
slyli^  of  architecture  ;  although  the  description  of  the  mansion  of  Ulysses  is  in 
some  parts  more  minute. 


THE   HEROIC   AGE- THE   TROJAN    WAR.  91 

and  also  stables  for  the  horses.^    The  stalls  for  cattle  were 
commonlj  in  the  fields. 

Astonishment  is  excited  by  the  abundance  of  metals, 
both  of  the  precious  and  baser  ones,  with  which  the 
mansions  were  adorned,  and  of  which  the  household 
utensils  were  made.^  The  walls  glittered  with  them; 
the  seats  were  made  of  them.  Water  for  washing  was 
presented  in  golden  ewers  on  silver  salvers  ;  the  benches, 
arms,  utensils  were  ornamented  with  them.  Even  if  we 
suppose  that  much,  called  golden,  was  only  gilded,  we 
still  have  reason  to  ask,  whence  this  wealth  in  precious 
metals  ?  Homer  gives  us  a  hint  respecting  the  silver, 
when  he  speaks  of  it  as  belonging  to  Alybe,  in  the  land 
of  the  Halizones.'  Most  of  the  gold  probably  came  from 
Lydia,  where  this  metal  in  later  times  was  so  abundant, 
that  the  Greeks  were  for  the  most  part  supplied  with  all 
they  used  from  that  country.  As  there  was  no  coined 
money,'*  and  as  the  metals  were  in  consequence  used  in 
commerce  as  means  of  exchange,  the  manufacturing  of 
them  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  chief  branches  of 
mechanic  industry.  Proofs  of  this  are  found  in  the 
preparation  of  arms  and  utensils.  We  need  but  call  to 
mind  the  shield  of  Achilles,  the  torch-bearing  statues  in 
the  house  of  Alcinous,^  the  enameled  figures  on  the  clasp 
of  Ulysses'  mantle,"  &:c.  But  it  is  difficult  to  say,  how 
far  these  manufactures  were  made   by  the   Greeks,  or 

'  Thus  with  Menelaus,  Od.  iv.  40. 

^  Above  all  in  the  mansion  of  Menelaus. 

^  II.  ii.  Catalog,  v.  3G4.  Without  doubt  in  the  Caucasian  chain  of  mountains; 
even  if  the  Halizones  and  the  Chalybes  were  not  the  same. 

•*  This  was  probably  one  of  the  chief  reasons  why  so  much  of  it  was  manu- 
factured. 

5  Od.  vii.  100.  8  Od.  xix.  225,  &c. 


92  CHAPTER   FOURTH. 

gained  by  exchange  from  abroad.  As  the  poet  commonly 
describes  them  to  be  the  works  of  Vulcan,  it  is  at  least 
clear,  that  manufactures  of  this  kind  were  somewhat  rare, 
and  in  part  foreign.^  Gold  was  afterwards  wrought  in 
Asia  Minor,  especially  in  Lydia  ;  all  labor  in  brass  and 
iron  seems,  as  we  remarked  above,  to  have  been  first 
brought  to  perfection  among  the  Hellenes  in  Crete. 

These  labors  in  metal  appear  to  have  limited  the  early 
progress  of  the  plastic  arts.  We  find  no  traces  of  paint- 
ing, and  none  of  marble  statues.  But  those  efforts  in 
metal  im})ly  practice  in  drawing  ;  for  we  hear  not  only 
of  figures,  but  also  of  expression  in  their  positions  and 
motions.^ 

The  art  of  weaving,  the  chief  occupation  of  the 
women,  was  even  then  carried  to  a  high  degree  of  per- 
fection. The  stuffs  were  of  wool  and  linen  ;  it  is  hard 
to  decide  how  far  cotton  was  in  those  times  manufactured 
in  Greece.^  Yet  garments  of  foreign  manufacture,  those 
of  Egypt  and  Sidon,  were  esteemed  the  most  beautiful.^ 
The  dress  was  decent  but  free.  The  female  sex  were 
by  no  means  accustomed  to  conceal  the  countenance,  but 
were  clad  in  long  robes  ;  both  sexes  wore  a  tight  under 
garment,  over  which  the  broad  upper  garment  was 
tin-own.^ 

'  As  c.  g.  the  silver  goblet  received  by  Menelaus  from  the  king  of  Sidon. 
Ocl.  iv.  015. 

-  Ik'sidos  the  description  of  tlie  shield  of  Achilles,  note  especially  Od.  xix. 
22-<,  etc. 

^  Comjiare,  above  all,  the  description  of  Achilles'  clothing.     Od.  xix.  225,  etc. 
The   mantle  (//.an  a),  rough  to  the  touch,  was   without  doubt  of  wool ;  but  the 
under  gnrmrnt  (/itch)  can  hardly  pass  for  either  woollen  or  linen. 
Fine  as  a  filmy  web  bencatii  it  shone 
A  vest,  that  dazzled  like  a  cloudless  sun. 

<  As  0.  g.  II.  vi.  200. 

'  The  passacfes  are  collectt^d  in  Feithii  Ant.  Homer,  iii.  cap.  7. 


THE   HEROIC   AGE  — THE  TROJAN    WAR.  93 

The  internal  regulations  of  families  were  simple,  but 
not  without  those  peculiarities,  which  are  a  natural  con- 
sequence of  the  introduction  of  slavery.  Polygamy  was 
not  directly  authorized  ;  but  the  sanctity  of  marriage 
was  not  considered  as  violated  by  the  intercourse  of  the 
husband  with  female  slaves.  The  noble  characters  of 
Andromache  and  of  Penelope  exhibit,  each  in  its  own  way, 
models  of  elevated  conjugal  affection.  It  is  more  diffi- 
cult for  us,  with  our  feelings,  to  understand  the  seduced 
and  returning  Helen ;  and  yet  if  we  compare  Helen,  the 
beloved  of  Paris  in  the  Iliad, ^  with  Helen,  the  spouse  of 
Menelaus  in  the  Odyssey,^  we  find  truth  and  much 
internal  harmony  in  the  character  which  could  err,  but 
not  become  wholly  untrue  to  nobleness  of  feeling.  It  is 
a  woman,  who,  having  become  in  jouth  the  victim  of 
sensuality,  (and  never  without  emotions  of  regret,)  re- 
turned afterwards  to  reason  ;  before  she  was  compelled 
to  do  so  by  age.  Even  after  her  return  from  Troy,  she 
was  still  exceedingly  beautiful  f  (and  who  can  think  of 
counting  her  years  ?)  And  yet  even  then  the  two  sexes 
stood  to  each  other  in  the  same  relation,  which  continued 
in  later  times.  The  wife  is  housewife,  and  nothing 
more.  Even  the  sublime  Andromache,  after  that  part- 
ing, which  will  draw  tears  as  long  as  there  are  eyes 
which  can  weep  and  hearts  which  can  feel,  is  sent  back 
to  the  apartments  of  the  women,  to  superintend  the 
labors  of  the  maidservants/  Still  we  observe  in  her, 
conjugal  love  of  an  elevated  character.  In  other  in- 
stances love  has  reference,  both  with  mortals  and  with 
immortals,  to  sensual  enjoyment ;  although  in  the  noble 

'  In  the  third  book.  2  Odyss.  iv.  and  xv. 

3  Odyss.  iv.  121.  *  ]\.  vi.  490, 


94  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

and  uncorrupted  virgin  characters,  as  in  the  amiable 
Nausicaa,  it  was  united  with  that  bashfulness,  which 
accompanies  maiden  youth.  But  we  meet  with  no  trace 
of  those  elevated  feelings,  that  romantic  love,  as  it  is 
very  improperly  termed,  which  results  from  a  higher 
regard  for  the  female  sex.  That  love,  and  that  regard 
are  traits  peculiar  to  the  Germanic  nations,  a  result  of 
the  spirit  of  gallantry  which  was  a  leading  feature  in  the 
character  of  chivalry,  but  which  we  vainly  look  for  in 
Greece.  Yet  here  the  Greek  stands  between  the  East 
and  the  West.  Although  he  was  never  wont  to  revere 
woman  as  a  being  of  a  higher  order,  he  did  not,  like  the 
Asiatic,  imprison  her  by  troops  in  a  haram. 

The  progress  'v^  hich  had  been  made  in  social  life,  is 
visible  in  nothing,  except  the  relative  situation  of  the 
sexes,  more  distinctly,  than  in  the  tone  of  conversation 
among  men.  A  solemn  dignity  belonged  to  it  even  in 
common  intercourse  ;  the  style  of  salutation  and  address 
is  connected  with  certain  forms  ;  the  epithets  with  which 
the  heroes  honored  each  other,  were  so  adopted  into  the 
language  of  intercourse,  that  they  are  not  unfrequently 
applied,  even  where  the  language  of  reproach  is  used. 
Let  it  not  be  said,  that  this  is  merely  the  language  of  epic 
poetry.  The  poet  never  could  have  employed  it,  if  its 
original,  and  a  taste  for  it,  had  not  already  existed.  If 
the  tone  of  intercourse  is  a  measure  of  the  social  and,  in 
a  certain  degree,  of  the  moral  improvement  of  a  nation, 
the  Greeks  of  the  heroic  age  were  already  vastly  elevated 
beyond  their  earlier  savage  state. 

To  complete  the  picture  of  those  times,  it  is  necessary 
to  speak  of  war  and  the  art  of  war.  The  heroic  age  of 
tlie  Greeks,  considered  from   this  point  of  view,  exhibits 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  — THE  TROJAN  WAR.        95 

a  mixture  of  savageness  and  magnanimity,  and  the  first 
outlines  of  the  laws  of  nations.  The  enemy  who  has 
been  slain,  is  not  secure  against  outrage,  and  yet  the 
corpse  is  not  always  abused.^  The  conquered  party  offers 
a  ransom ;  and  it  depends  on  the  victor  to  accept  or  re- 
fuse it.  The  arms,  both  of  attack  and  defence,  are  of 
iron  or  brass.  No  hero  appeared,  like  Hercules  of  old, 
with  a  club  and  lion's  skin  for  spear  and  shield.  The  art 
of  war,  as  far  as  it  relates  to  the  position  and  erecting  of 
fortified  camps,  seems  to  have  been  first  invented  in  the 
siege  of  Troy.^  In  other  respects,  everything  depended 
on  the  more  or  less  perfect  equipments,  together  with 
personal  courage  and  strength.  As  the  great  multitude 
was,  for  the  most  part,  without  defensiv'C  armor,  and  as 
only  a  few  were  completely  accoutred,  one  of  these  last 
outweighed  a  host  of  the  rest.  But  only  the  leaders  were 
thus  armed ;  and  they,  standing  on  their  chariots  of  war 
(for  cavalry  was  still  unknown,)  fought  with  each  other 
in  the  space  between  the  armies.  If  they  were  victorious, 
they  spread  panic  before  them ;  and  it  became  easy  for 
them  to  break  through  the  ranks.  But  we  will  pursue  no 
farther  the  description  of  scenes,  which  every  one  prefers 
to  read  in  the  poet  himself. 

As  the  crusades  were  the  fruit  of  the  revolution  in  the 
social  condition  of  the  West,  the  Trojan  war  resulted 
from  the  same  causes  in  Greece.  It  was  necessary,  that 
a  fondness  for  adventures  in  forei";n  lands  should  be 
awakened;  expeditions  by  sea,  like  that  of  the  Argo- 
nauts, be  attended  with  success  ;  and  a  union  of  the 
heroes,  as  in  that  and  the  march  against  Thebes,  be  first 

'  An  example,  II.  vi.  417. 

^  See  on  this  subject,  on  which  we  believe  we   may  be  brief,  tiie   Excursus  of 
Heyne  to  the  vi.  vii.  and  viii.  books  of  the  Iliad. 


96  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

established ;  before  such  an  undertaking  could  become 
practicable.  But  now  it  resulted  so  naturally  from  the 
whole  condition  of  things,  that,  though  its  object  might 
have  been  a  different  one,  it  must  have  taken  place  even 
without  a  Helen. 

The  expedition  against  Troy,  like  the  crusades,  was  a 
voluntary  undertaking  on  the  part  of  those  who  joined  in 
it ;  and  this  circumstance  had  an  influence  on  all  the 
internal  regulations.  The  leaders  of  the  several  bands 
were  voluntary  followers  of  the  Atridae,  and  could  there- 
fore depart  from  the  army  at  their  own  pleasure.  Aga- 
memnon was  but  the  first  among  the  first.  It  is  more 
difficult  to  ascertain  the  relation  between  the  leaders  and 
their  people  ;  and  he  who  should  undertake  to  describe 
every  thing  minutely,  would  be  most  sure  of  making 
mistakes.  There  were  certainly  control  and  obedience. 
The  troops  follow  their  leaders,  and  leave  the  battle  with 
them.  But  much  even  of  this  seems  to  have  been  volun- 
tary ;  and  the  spirit  of  the  age  allowed  no  such  severe 
disci])line  as  exists  in  modern  armies.  None  but  a  Ther- 
sites  could  have  received  the  treatment  of  Thersites. 

This  undertaking,  begun  and  successfully  terminated 
by  united  exertions,  kindled  the  national  spirit  of  the 
Hellenes.  On  the  fields  of  Asia,  the  tribes  had  for  the 
first  time  l)een  assembled,  for  the  first  time  had  saluted 
each  other  as  brethren.  They  had  iought  and  had  con- 
quered in  company.  Yet  something  of  a  higher  character 
was  still  wanting  to  preserve  the  flame,  which  was  just 
blazing  up.  The  assistance  of  the  muse  was  needed,  to 
commemorate  in  words  those  events  of  which  the  echo 
will  never  die  away.  By  preserving  the  memory  of  them 
for  ever,  the  most  beautiful  fruits  which  they  bore  were 
saved  from  perishing. 


THE   PERIOD   FOLLOWING  THE   HEROIC   AGE.  97 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE  PERIOD  FOLLOWING  THE  HEROIC  AGE.  MIGRATIONS. 
ORIGIN  OF  REPUBLICAN  FORMS  OF  GOVERNMENT,  AND 
THEIR  CHARACTER. 

Like  the  age  of  chivalry  in  western  Europe,  the  heroic 
age  of  the  Greeks  began  and  ended  without  our  being 
able  to  define  either  period  by  an  exact  date.  Such  a 
phenomenon  is  the  fruit  of  causes  which  are  rooted  deep- 
ly and  of  continuing  influence,  and  it  neither  suddenly 
ripens  nor  suddenly  decays.  The  heroic  age  was  not 
immediately  terminated  by  the  Trojan  war  ;  yet  it  was 
during  that  period  in  its  greatest  glory. ^  It  was  closely 
united  with  the  political  constitution  of  the  times  ;  the 
princes  of  the  tribes  were  the  first  of  the  heroes.  When 
the  consti-tution  of  the  tribes  was  changed,  the  ancient 
heroic  world  could  not  continue.  No  new  undertaking 
was  begun,  which  was  so  splendidly  executed  and  closed. 
Although,  therefore,  heroic  characters  may  still  have 
arisen,  as  in  the  times  of  Achilles  and  Agamemnon,  no 
similar  career  of  honor  was  opened  to  them  ;  th(^y  were 
not  celebrated  in  song  like  the  Atridai  and  their  compan- 
ions ;  and  though  they  may  have  gained  the  j)raise  of 
their  contemporaries,  they  did  not  live,  like  the  latter,  in 
the  memory  of  succeeding  generations. 

In  the  age  succeeding  the  Trojan  war,  several  events 

'  Hesiod  limits  his  fourtli  age,  the  age  of  heroes,  to  the  times  immediately 
beibie  ;ind  after  the  Trojan  war.     Op.  et  Dies,  15G,  tVc. 
]3 


98  CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

took  place,  which  prepared  and  introduced  an  entire  re- 
volution in  the  domestic  and  still  more  in  the  public  life 
of  the  Greeks.  The  result  of  these  revolutions  was  the 
origin  and  general  prevalence  of  republican  forms  of 
government  among  them  ;  and  this  decided  the  whole 
future  character  of  their  public  life  as  a  nation. 

It  is  still  possible  for  us  to  show  the  general  causes  of 
this  great  change  ;  but  when  we  remember  that  these 
events  took  place  before  Greece  had  produced  a  historian, 
and  when  tradition  was  the  onlj^  authority,  we  give  up 
all  expectation  of  gaining  perfect  and  unbroken  historical 
accounts  ;  and  acknowledge  that  we  can  hardly  know 
more  of  them  than  Thucydides. 

"  The  emigration  of  the  tribes,"  says  this  historian,^ 
"  was  by  no  means  at  an  end  with  the  Trojan  war.  The 
continuance  of  the  war  produced  many  changes ;  in 
many  cities  disturbances  were  excited,  which  occasioned 
the  banished  parties  to  found  new  cities.  The  Boeotians, 
driven  from  Arne  in  Thessaly,  took  possession  of  their 
country  in  the  sixtieth  year  after  the  fall  of  Troy;  in  the 
eightieth,  the  Dorians,  led  on  by  the  Heraclidae,  con- 
quered the  Peloponnesus."  And  we  have  already  ob- 
served, what  great  revolutions  were  produced  by  this  last 
event.  A  new  tribe,  till  then  the  weaker,  was  extended 
and  became  the  more  powerful.  But  still  greater  changes 
were  to  come  ;  the  race  of  the  Hellenes  were  destined 
to  extend  on  the  east  and  west,  far  beyond  the  limits  of 
their  ancient  country.  "  When  Greece,"  continues 
Thucydides,  "  after  a  long  interval,  at  length  became 
composed,  and  assumed  a  firmer  appearance,  it  sent  out 
colonies  ;   Athens,  to  Ionia  in  Asia  IMinor,  and  to  a  great 

'  Thucyd.  i.  \2. 


THE    PERIOD   FOLLOWING  THE   HEROIC   AGE. 

part  of  the  islands  of  the  Archipelago ;  the  Peloponne- 
sians,  chiefly  to  Italy  and  Sicily ;  all  which  settlements 
were  not  made  till  after  the  Trojan  times." 

The  views  of  the  nation  could  not  but  be  enlarged  by 
the  Trojan  war.  It  had  become  acquainted  with  the 
coasts  of  Asia,  those  lands  so  highly  favored  by  nature  ; 
and  the  recollection  of  them  never  died  away.  When 
the  new  internal  storms  followed,  and  almost  all  the 
tribes  of  the  Hellenes  were  driven  from  their  places  of 
abode,  it  is  not  remarkable  that  the  coasts  of  Asia  should 
have  attracted  the  emigrating  parties.  Since  the  down- 
fall of  Troy,  no  new  dominion  had  been  established 
there  ;  no  nation  of  the  country  was  strong  enough  to 
prohibit  the  settlement  of  the  foreigners.  Thus,  in  the 
course  of  not  more  than  a  century,^  the  western  coast  of 
Asia  Minor  was  occupied  by  a  chain  of  Grecian  cities, 
extending  from  the  Hellespont  to  the  boundary  of  Cilicia. 
jEolians,  conducted  by  the  descendants  of  the  fallen  house 
of  the  Atridas,  established  their  residence  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  ruins  of  Troy,  on  the  coast  of  Mysia,  in  the  most 
fruitful  region  known  to  those  times,' and  on  the  opposite 
island  of  Lesbos ;  on  the  continent  they  built  twelve 
cities,  and  on  Lesbos  Mitylcne,  which  now  gives  a  name 
to  the  whole  island.  Smyrna,  the  only  one  which  has 
preserved  a  part  of  its  splendor,  and  Cyme,  exceeded  all 
the  rest  on  the  main  land.  iEolis  was  bounded  on  the 
south  by  Ionia,  a  region  so  called  from  the  twelve  Ionian 
cities,  which  were  built  by  the  lonians,  who  had  been 
expelled  from  their  ancient  country.  They  also  occu- 
pied the  neighboring  islands  Chios  and  Samos.    If  Jllolis 

'  In  a  period  subsequent  to  the  year  llfSO  before  Christ. 
2  Herod,  i.  149. 


100  CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

could  boast  of  superior  fertility,  the  Ionian  sky  was  cele- 
brated with  the  Greeks  as  the  mildest  and  most  delight- 
ful.' Of  these  cities,  Miletus,  Ephesus,  and  Phocaea 
became  flourishing  commercial  towns ;  the  mothers  of 
many  daughters,  extending  from  the  shores  of  the  Black 
sea  and  lake  Maeotis,  to  the  coasts  of  Gaul  and  Iberia. 
Neither  were  the  Dorians  content  with  their  conquest  of 
the  Peloponnesus ;  troops  of  them  thronged  to  Asia  ; 
Cos,  and  the  wealthy  Rhodes,  as  well  as  the  cities  Hali- 
carnassus  and  Cnidus,  were  peopled  by  them.  In  this 
manner,  as  the  series  of  cities  planted  by  the  Grecians 
ascended  the  Macedonian  and  Thracian  coast  to  Byzan- 
tium, the  ^Egean  sea  was  encircled  with  Grecian  colo- 
nies, and  its  ishuids  were  covered  with  them.  But  the 
mother  country  seems  soon  to  have  been  filled  again  ; 
and  as  the  east  offered  no  more  room,  the  emigrants 
wandered  to  the  west.  At  a  somewhat  later  period,  but 
with  JKirdly  less  success,  the  coasts  of  Lower  Italy,  which 
soon  took  the  name  of  Magna  Grrecia,  and  those  of  Sicily, 
were  occupied  by  Dorians,  Acha3ans,  and  lonians.^  On 
the  gulf  of  Tarentum,  not  only  the  city  of  that  name, 
but  Croton  and  Sybaris  soon  rose  to  a  degree  of  popula- 
tion and  wealth,  bordering  on  the  fabulous  ;  whilst  the 
chain  of  towns  extended  by  way  of  Rhegium  and  P;estum 
as  far  as  Cum-cC  and  Naples.  These  colonial  towns  were 
still  more  iVequent  on  the  coasts  of  Sicily,  from  Messana 
and  the  uuri\alied  Syracuse  to  the  proud  Agrigentum. 
And  in  the  now  desolate  Barca,  on  the  coast  of  Lybia, 
Cyrene    flourished  with  the  towns  of  which  it  was  the 


•   Ilernd.  i,  M2. 

-  Ksp.-rinlly  lictweon  the  yoars  f^OO  and  700  before   the   Christian  era.     Yet 
sinale  colonie.^  woit  earlier  estabhshed. 


THE   PERIOD   FOLLOWING   THE   HEROIC   AGE.  101 

metropolis,  and  proved  that  Greeks  remained  true  to  their 
origin  even  in  Africa. 

We  reserve  for  another  chapter  the  consideration  of 
the  flourishing  condition  and  various  consequences  of 
their  colonies.  But  whilst  the  world  of  the  Greeks  and 
their  circle  of  vision  were  thus  enlarged,  it  was  not  pos- 
sible for  their  political  condition  to  remain  unchanged. 
Freedom  ripens  in  colonies.  Beyond  the  sea,  ancient 
usage  cannot  be  preserved,  cannot  altogether  be  re- 
newed, as  at  home.  The  former  bonds  of  attachment 
to  the  soil  and  ancient  customs,  were  broken  by  emigra- 
tion ;  the  spirit  felt  itself  to  be  more  free  in  the  new 
country  ;  new  strength  was  required  for  the  necessary 
exertions  :  and  those  exertions  were  animated  by  suc- 
cess. Where  every  man  lives  by  the  lalx)r  of  his  hands, 
equality  arises,  even  if  it  did  not  exist  before.  Each 
day  is  fraught  with  new  experience  ;  the  necessity  of 
common  defence  is  more  felt  in  lands  where  the  new 
settlers  find  ancient  inhabitants  desirous  of  being:  free 
from  them.  Need  we  wonder,  then,  if  the  authority  of 
the  founders,  even  where  it  had  originally  subsisted,  soon 
gave  way  to  liberty  r 

Similar  phenomena  are  observable  in  the  mother  coun- 
try. The  annihilation  of  so  many  of  the  ruling  houses 
in  the  Trojan  war  and  its  immediate  consequences  would 
have  produced  them  even  "without  internal  storms.  How 
then  could  the  ancient  order  of  things  be  restored, 
after  so  great  revolutions  and  such  chaniies  in  the  resi- 
dence of  nearly  all  the  tribes  ?  The  heroic  age  disap- 
peared ;  and  with  it  tlu?  supremacy  of  the  princes  ;  and 
when  heroes  came  forward,  like  Aristomenes,  they  re- 
semble  adventurers   rather  than  the   sublime  fiirures   of 


102  CHAPTER   FIFTH. 

Homer.  On  the  other  hand,  the  intercourse  and  trade 
with  the  colonies  were  continued  on  all  sides  ;  for,  ac- 
cording to  the  Grecian  custom,  the  mother  country  and 
her  colonies  were  never  strangers  to  each  other ;  and  the 
former  soon  had  a  lesson  to  learn  of  the  latter. 

A  new  order  of  things  was  the  necessary  consequence. 
The  ancient  ruling  families  died  away  of  themselves,  or 
lost  their  power.  But  this  did  not  take  place  in  all  or 
most  of  the  Grecian  cities  at  one  time,  but  very  grad- 
ually ;  and  he  who  should  speak  of  a  general  political 
revolution  in  the  modern  phrase,  would  excite  altogether 
erroneous  conceptions.  As  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the 
imperfect  accounts  which  remain  of  the  history  of  the 
individual  states,  more  than  a  century  elapsed  before  the 
change  was  complete.  We  cannot  fix  the  period  of  it  in 
all  of  them  ;  it  happened  in  most  of  them  between  the 
years  900  and  700  before  Christ;  in  others  in  the  two 
centuries  immediately  after  the  Doric  emigration.  In 
several,  as  in  Athens,  it  was  brought  about  by  degrees, 
lu  that  city,  when  the  royal  dignity  was  abolished  at  the 
death  of  Codrus,^  archons,  differing  little  from  kings, 
were  appointed  from  his  family  for  life  ;  these  were  fol- 
lowed by  archons  chosen  for  ten  years  ;^  and  these  last 
continued  for  seventy  years,  till  the  yearly  election  of  a 
college  of  archons  set  the  seal  to  democracy. 

Tlie  fruit  of  these  changes  was  the  establishment  of 
free  constitutions  for  the  cities  ;  which  constitutions  could 
prosper  only  with  the  increasing  prosperity  of  the  towns. 
Thucvdides  has  described  to  us  in  an  admirable  manner 
how  this  happened.     "  In   those  times,"  says  he,^  "  no 

'  In  the  year  1008  before  Christ.  ^  In  the  year  752  before  Christ. 

•'  Tliucyd   i.  15. 


THE   PERIOD   FOLLOWING   THE   HEROIC   AGE.  ]  03 

important  war,  which  could  give  a  great  ascendency  to 
individual  states,  was  carried  on  ;  the  wars  which  chanc- 
ed to  arise,  were  only  with  the  nearest  neighbors," 
Though  tranquillity  may  thus  have  sometimes  been  in- 
terrupted, the  increase  of  the  cities  could  not  be  retarded. 
"  But  since  colonies  were  established  beyond  the  sea, 
several  of  the  cities  began  to  apply  themselves  to  navi- 
gation and  commerce  ;  and  the  intercourse  kept  up  with 
them  afforded  mutual  advantages.^  The  cities,"  contin- 
ues Thucydides,  "  became  more  powerful  and  more 
wealthy  ;  but  then  usurpers  arose  in  most  of  them,  who 
sought  only  to  confirm  their  own  power,  and  enrich  their 
own  families  ;  but  performed  no  great  exploits  ;  until 
they  were  overthrown,  not  long  before  the  Persian 
wars,  by  the  Spartans  (who,  amidst  all  those  storms, 
were  never  subjected  to  tyrants,)  and  the  Athenians."^ 
The  essential  character  of  the  new  political  form  as- 
sumed by  Greece,  consisted  therefore  in  the  circumstance, 
that  the  free  states  which  were  formed,  were  nothing  but 
cities  with  their  districts,  and  their  constitutions  were 
consequently  only  forms  of  city  government.  This  point 
of  view  must  never  be  lost  siirht  of.  The  districts  into 
which  Greece  was  divided,  did  not  form,  as  such,  so  many 
states  ;  but  the  same  often  contained  many  states,  if  it 
possessed  several  independent  cities  ;  though  a  whole 
district  sometimes  formed  the  territory  of  but  one  city, 
as  Attica  of  Athens,  Laconia  of  Sparta,  etc.,  and  in  such 
a  case  formed  of  course  but  one  state.  But  it  might 
easily  happen,  that  the  cities  of  one  district,  especially  if 

'  Thucyd.  i.  13. 

2  For  the  counterpart  to  the  narration  of  Thucydides,  we  need  only  call  to 
mind  the  history  of  the  Italian  cities,  towards  the  end  of  the  middle  age. 


104  CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

their  inhabitants  were  of  kindred  tribes,  formed  alliances 
for  mutual  safety ;  as  the  twelve  Achaean  cities  had  done. 
But  these  alliances  had  reference  only  to  foreign  rela- 
tions ;  and  thus  they  formed  a  confederation  of  cities, 
but  not  one  state  ;  for  each  individual  city  had  its  own 
internal  constitution,  and  managed  its  own  concerns.  It 
might  also  happen,  that  some  one  of  the  cities,  on  be- 
coming powerful,  should  claim  the  sovereignty  over  the 
rest ;  as  Thebes  over  the  Bosotian  cities.  But  however 
far  such  a  superior  rank  might  lead  ;  it  was  intended  by 
the  Greeks,  not  only  that  each  state  should  preserve  its 
internal  liberty  ;  but  that  its  submission  should  be  volun- 
tary ;  although  the  claims  of  a  supreme  city  occasionally 
led  to  compulsory  measures.  When  Thebes  usurped  the 
first  rank  in  Boeotia,  Platfeee  would  never  acknowledge 
its  sovereignly.  The  consequences  of  it  are  known  from 
history. 

The  whole  political  life  of  the  nation  was  thus  con- 
nected with  cities  and  their  constitutions  ;  and  no  one 
can  judge  of  Grecian  history  with  accuracy,  unless  he 
compr(^hends  the  spirit  of  them.  The  strength  of  such 
citi(>s  seems  to  be  very  limited  ;  but  the  history  of  the 
world  abounds  in  examples,  which  show  how  far  beyond 
e\])e(tation  they  can  rise.  They  are  animated  by  public 
s])irit,  resulting  from  civil  prosperity  ;  and  the  force  of 
that  sj)irit  can  ho  expressed  in  no  statistical  tables. 


HOMER.     THE  EPIC   POETS.  105 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HOMER.    THE   EPIC  POETS. 


The  heroic  age  was  past,  before  the  poets,  who  cele- 
brated it,  arose.  It  produced  some  contemporary  with 
itself;  but  their  fame  was  eclipsed  by  those  who  came 
after  them,  and  were  it  not  for  Homer,  the  names  of 
Demodocus  and  Phemius  had  never  become  immortal. 

With  the  Greeks,  epic  poetry  had  an  importance,  which 
it  possessed  among  no  other  people ;  it  was  the  source  of 
their  national  education  in  poetry  and  the  arts.  It  be- 
came so  by  means  of  the  Homeric  poems.  But  bound- 
less as  was  the  genius  of  the  Ionian  bard,  a  concurrence 
of  favorable  circumstances  w^as  still  needed,  to  prepare 
for  his  appearance,  and  to  make  it  possible. 

Epic  poetry  was  of  itself  a  fruit  of  the  heroic  age  ; 
just  as  the  poetry  of  chivalry  w^as  the  result  of  the  age 
of  chivalry.  The  picture  drawn  for  us  by  Homer  of  the 
heroic  times,  leaves  no  room  to  doubt  of  it.  The  feasts 
of  the  heroes,  like  the  banquets  of  the  knights,  were 
ornamented  with  song.  But  the  more  copious  the  stream 
is  to  which  it  swelled,  the  more  does  it  deserve  to  be 
traced,  as  far  as  possible,  to  its  origin. 

Even  before  the  heroic  age,  we  hear  of  several  poets, 
of  Orpheus,  Linus,  and  a  few  others.  But  if  their  hymns 
were  merely  invocations  and  eulogies  of  the  gods,  as  we 
must  infer  from  the  accounts  which  are  handed  down  to 

14 


106  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

US  respecting  them,'  no  similarity  seems  to  have  existed 
between  them  and  the  subsequent  heroic  poetry  ;  although 
a  transition  not  only  became  possible,  but  actually  took 
place,  when  the  actions  of  the  gods  were  made  the  sub- 
jects of  hymns. ^  The  heroic  poetry,  according  to  all  that 
we  know  of  it,  preserved  the  character  of  narration  ; 
whether  those  narrations  contained  accounts  of  the  gods 
or  of  heroes  ;  ^  "  the  actions  of  gods  and  heroes,  who 
were  celebrated  in  song."  In  the  songs  of  Demodocus 
and  Phemius,  the  subject  is  taken  from  the  one  and  from 
the  other  ;  he  celebrates  the  loves  of  Mars  and  Venus,* 
no  less  than  the  adventures  which  took  place  before  Troy. 
The  latter  class  of  subjects  cannot  be  more  ancient  than 
the  heroic  age,  even  though  we  should  esteem  the  former 
as  much  older.  But  that  age  produced  the  class  of  bards, 
who  were  employed  in  celebrating  the  actions  of  the 
heroes.  They  formed  a  separate  class  in  society ;  but 
they  stood  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  heroes,  and  are 
considered  as  belonging  to  them.*  The  gift  of  song  came 
to  them  from  the  gods  ;  it  is  the  Muse,  or  Jove  himself, 
who  inspires  them  and  teaches  them  what  they  should 
sing.^  As  this  representation  continually  recurs,  it  is 
probable,  that  their  poetic  effusions  were  often  extem- 
poraneous. At  least  this  seems  in  many  cases  hardly  to 
admit  of  a  doubt.  Ulysses  proposes  to  Demodocus  the 
subject  of  his  song  ;  ^  and  the  bard,  like  the  modern  im- 

'  Our  present  Orphic  hymns  have  this  character.  The  more  ancient  ones,  if 
there  were  such,  were  nothing  else.  See  Pausanias  ix.  p.  770 ;  and  the  very 
ancient  liymn,  preserved  by  Stoba^us.    Stob.  Eclog.  i.  p.  40,  in  Heeren's  edition. 

-  The  proof  of  tliis  is  found  in  the  hymns  attributed  to  Homer. 

;i  Odyss.  i.  3158.  4  odyss.  viii.  2GG,  &c. 

■''  Od.  viii.  IdS.     Demodocus  himself  is  here  called  a  Hero. 

«  Od.  viii.  73,  i.  348.  7  od.  viii.  492,  etc.  a  leading  passage. 


HOMER.     THE   EPIC   POETS.  107 

provisatori,  commences  his  strains  under  the  influence  of 
the  sudden  inspiration.  We  would  by  no  means  be  un- 
derstood to  assert,  that  there  were  none  but  extempora- 
neous productions.  Certain  songs  very  naturally  became 
favorites,  and  were  kept  alive  in  the  mouths  of  the  poets ; 
whilst  an  infinite  number,  which  were  but  the  offspring 
of  the  moment,  died  away  at  their  birth.  But  an  abund- 
ance of  songs  was  needed  ;  a  variety  was  required,  and 
the  charm  of  novelty  even  then  enforced  its  claims.^ 

For  novel  lays  attract  our  ravished  ears  ; 
But  old  the  mind  with  inattention  hears. 

The  voice  was  always  accompanied  by  some  instrument. 
The  bard  was  provided  with  a  harp,  on  which  he  played 
a  prelude,^  to  elevate  and  inspire  his  mind,  and  with 
which  he  accompanied  the  song  when  begun.  His  voice 
probably  preserved  a  medium  between  singing  and  reci- 
tation ;  the  words,  and  not  the  melody,  were  regarded 
by  the  listeners ;  hence  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  re- 
main intelligible  to  all.  In  countries  where  nothing  sim- 
ilar is  found,  it  is  difficult  to  represent  such  scenes  to  the 
mind  ;  but  whoever  has  had  an  opportunity  of  listening 
to  the  improvisatori  of  Italy,  can  easily  form  an  idea  of 
Demodocus  and  Phemius. 

However  imperfect  our  ideas  of  the  earliest  heroic 
songs  may  remain  after  all  which  the  poet  has  told  us, 
the  following  positions  may  be  inferred  from  it.  First : 
The  singers  were  at  the  same  time  poets ;  they  sang 
their  own  works  ;  there  is  no  trace  of  their  having  sung 
those  of  others.  Farther  :  their  songs  were  poured  forth 
from  the  inspiration  of  the  moment ;  or  only  reposed  in 

I  Od.  i.  352.  *  ^yaliantaeut,  Od.  viii.  266,  &c. 


108  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

their  memory.  In  the  former  case,  they  were,  in  the' 
full  sense  of  the  word,  improvisatori ;  and,  in  the  latter, 
they,  must  necessarily  have  remained  in  some  measure 
improvisatori,  for  they  lived  in  an  age,  which,  even  if  it 
possessed  the  alphabet,  seems  never  to  have  thought  of 
committing  poems  to  writing.  The  epic  poetry  of  the 
Greeks  did  not  continue  to  be  mere  extemporaneous  ef- 
fusions ;  but  it  seems  to  us  very  probable,  that  such  vras 
its  origin.  Lastly  :  Although  the  song  was  sometimes 
accompanied  by  a  dance  illustrative  of  its  subject,  imi- 
tative gestures  are  never  attributed  to  the  bard  himself. 
There  are  dancers  for  that.  Epic  poetry  and  the  ballet 
can  thus  be  united  ;  but  the  union  was  not  essential,  and 
probably  took  place  only  in  the  histories  concerning 
the  gods.^  This  union  was  very  natural.  Under  the 
southern  skies  of  Europe,  no  proper  melody  is  required 
for  the  imitative  dance  ;  it  is  only  necessary  that  the  time 
should  be  distinctly  marked.  When  the  bard  did  this 
with  his  lyre,  the  dancers,  as  well  as  himself,  had  all  that 
they  required. 

This  heroic  poetry,  which  was  so  closely  interwoven 
with  social  life,  that  it  could  be  spared  at  no  cheering 
banquet,  was  common,  no  doubt,  throughout  all  Hellas. 
We  hear  its  strains  in  the  island  of  the  Phaeacians,  no 
less  than  in  the  dwellings  of  Ulysses  and  Menelaus. 
The  poet  does  not  bring  before  us  strict  contests  in  song ; 
but  we  may  learn,  that  the  spirit  of  emulation  was  strong, 
and  that  some  believed  themselves  already  perfect  in 
their  art,  from  the  story  of  the  Thracian  Thamyris,  who 
wished  to  contend  with  the   muses,  and  was  punished 

'  As  in  the  story  of  the  amour  of  Mars  and  Venus.    Od.  viii. 


HOMER.     THE   EPIC   POETS.  109 

for  his  daring  by  the  loss  of  the  light  of  his  eyes,  and  the 
art  of  song.^ 

Epic  poetry  emigrated  with  the  colonies  to  the  shores 
of  Asia.  When  we  remember,  that  those  settlements 
were  made  during  the  heroic  age,  and  that  in  part  the 
sons  and  posterity  of  the  princes,  in  whose  halls  at  Argos 
and  Mycenae  its  echoes  had  formerly  been  heard,  were 
the  leaders  of  those  expeditions,^  this  will  hardly  seem 
doubtful  and  still  less  improbable. 

But  that  epic  poetry  should  have  first  displayed  its  full 
glory  in  those  regions,  and  should  have  raised  itself  to 
the  sublimity  and  extent  which  it  obtained  ;  was  more 
than  could  have  been  expected. 

And  yet  it  was  so.  Homer  appeared.  The  history 
of  the  poet  and  his  works  is  lost  in  doubtful  obscurity ; 
as  is  the  history  of  many  of  the  first  minds  who  have 
done  honor  to  humanity,  because  they  arose  amidst  dark- 
ness. The  majestic  stream  of  his  song,  blessing  and 
fertilizing,  flows  like  the  Nile  through  many  lands  and 
nations  ;  like  the  sources  of  the  Nile,  its  fountains  will 
remain  concealed. 

It  cannot  be  the  object  of  these  essays,  to  enter  anew 
into  these  investigations,  which  probably  have  already 
been  carried  as  far  as  the  present  state  of  criticism  and 
learning  will  admit.^  The  modern  inquirers  can  hardly 
be  reproached  with  credulity,  for  nothing,  which  could 
be  doubted,  not  even  the  existence  of  Homer  himself, 
has    been   left   unquestioned.     When    once    the    rotten 


•  II.  Cat.  Nav.  102. 
^  As  Orestes  and  his  descendants. 

^  It  is  liardly  necessary  to  refer  to  the  Excursus  of  Heyne  on  the  last  book 
of  the  Iliad  ;  and  the  Prolegomena  of  Wolf 


110  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

fabric  of  ancient  belief  was  examined,  no  one  of  the  pil- 
lars, on  which  it  rested,  could  escape  inspection.  The 
general  result  was,  that  the  whole  building  rested  far 
more  on  the  foundation  of  tradition,  than  of  credible 
history  ;  but  how  far  this  foundation  is  secure,  is  a  ques- 
tion, respecting  which,  the  voices  will  hardly  be  able  to 
unite. 

It  seems  of  chief  importance  to  expect  no  more  than 
the  nature  of  things  makes  possible.  If  the  period  of 
tradition  in  history  is  the  region  of  twilight,  we  should 
not  expect  in  it  perfect  light.  The  creations  of  genius 
remain  always  half  miracles,  because  they  are,  for  the 
most  part,  created  far  from  the  reach  of  observation.  If 
we  were  in  possession  of  all  the  historic  testimonies,  we 
never  could  wholly  explain  the  origin  of  the  Iliad  and 
the  Odyssey  ;  for  their  origin,  in  all  essential  points, 
must  have  remained  the  secret  of  the  poet.  But  we 
can,  to  a  certain  extent,  explain  how,  under  the  circum- 
stances of  those  times,  an  epic  poet  could  arise ;  how  he 
could  elevate  his  mind  ;  and  how  he  could  become  of 
such  importance  to  his  nation  and  to  posterity.  This  is 
all  to  which  our  inquiry  should  be  directed. 

The  age  of  Homer,  according  to  all  probability,  was 
that  in  which  the  Ionian  colonies  flourished  in  the  vigor 
of  youth. ^  Their  subsequent  condition  shows  that  this 
must  have  been  so  ;  although  history  has  not  preserved 
for  us  any  particular  account  on  the  subject.     It  is  easy 


'  The  age  of  Homer  is  usually  set  about  a  century  after  the  foundation  of 
those  colonies,  about  the  year  950  before  Christ.  If  it  be  true,  that  Lycurgus, 
wlioso  laws  were  given  about  the  year  880,  introduced  his  poems  into  Sparta,  he 
cannot  be  much  younger.     We  must  leave  to  others  the  prosecution  of  theie 

inquiries. 


HOMER.    THE   EPIC    POETS.  HI 

to  conceive,  that  in  a  country  highly  favored  by  nature  ; 
external  circumstances  could  afford  the  poet  many  facili- 
ties, by  means  of  the  forms  of  social  life,  of  which  song 
was  the  companion.  But  the  circumstances  of  the  times 
afforded  many  greater  advantages  to  poetic  genius. 

The  glimmerings  of  tradition  were  not  yet  departed. 
The  expedition  against  Troy,  and  the  efforts  of  the 
earlier  poets,  had  rather  contributed  so  to  mature  the 
traditions,  that  they  offered  the  noblest  subjects  for  na- 
tional poems.  Before  that  time,  the  heroes  of  the  seve- 
ral tribes  had  been  of  importance  to  none  but  their  tribe  ; 
but  those  who  were  distinguished  in  the  common  under- 
taking against  Troy,  became  heroes  of  the  nation.  Their 
actions  and  their  sufferings  awakened  a  general  interest. 
Add  to  this,  that  these  actions  and  adventures  had 
already  been  celebrated  by  many  of  the  early  bards  ;  and 
that  they  had  even  then  imparted  to  the  whole  of  history 
the  poetic  character,  which  distinguished  it.  Time  is 
always  needed  to  mature  tradition  for  the  epic  poet. 
The  songs  of  a  Phemius  and  a  Demodocus,  though  the 
subjects  of  them  were  taken  from  that  war,  were  but  the 
first  essays,  which  died  away,  as  the  ancient  songs  have 
done,  which  commemorated  the  exploits  of  the  crusaders. 
it  was  not  till  three  hundred  years  after  the  loss  of  the 
Holy  Land,  that  the  poet  appeared  who  was  to  ceU^brate 
the  glory  of  Godfrey  in  a  manner  worthy  of  the  hero ; 
more  time  had  perhaps  passed  after  Achilles  and  Hector 
fell  in  battle,  before  the  Grecian  poet  secured  to  them 
their  immortality.  « 

The  language  no  less  than  the  subject  had  been  im- 
proved in  this  age.  Although  neither  all  its  words  nor 
its   phrases  were  limited  in  their  use  by  strict  grammati- 


112  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

cal  rules,  it  was  by  no  means  awkward  or  rough.  It  had 
for  centuries  been  improved  by  the  poets,  and  had  now 
become  a  poetic  language.  It  almost  seemed  more  easy 
to  make  use  of  it  in  verse  than  in  prose ;  and  the  forms 
of  the  hexameter,  of  which  alone  the  epic  poet  made  use, 
are  extremely  simple.'  The  language  voluntarily  sub- 
mitted to  the  poet ;  and  there  never  was  a  tongue,  in 
which  inspiration  could  have  poured  itself  forth  with  more 
readiness  and  ease. 

Under  such  circumstances  it  is  intelligible,  that  when 
a  sublime  poetic  genius  arose  among  a  people  so  fond  of 
poetry  and  song  as  the  lonians  always  were,  the  age  was 
favorable  to  him  ;  although  the  elevated  creations  of  his 
mind  must  continue  to  appear  wonderful.  There  are 
two  things,  which  in  modern  times  appear  most  remark- 
able and  difficult  of  explanation  ;  how  a  poet  could  have 
first  conceived  the  idea  of  so  extensive  a  whole,  as  the 
Iliad  and  the  Odyssey ;  and  how  works  of  such  extent 
could  have  been  finished  and  preserved,  without  the  aid 
of  writing. 

With  regard  to  the  first  point,  criticism  has  endeavored 
to  shoAv,  and  has  succeeded  in  showing,  that  these  poems, 
especially  the  Iliad,  have  by  no  means  that  perfect  unity 
which  they  were  formerly  believed  to  possess  ;  that 
rather  many  whole  pieces  have  been  interpolated  or  an- 
nexed to  them ;  and  there  hardly  exists  at  present  an 
inquiring  scholar,  who  can  persuade  himself,  that  we 
possess  them  both  in  the  same  state,  in  which  they  came 
from  the  hands  of  the   poet.     But  notwithstanding  the 

'   IIow  mucli  easier  it,  must  have  been  to  make  extemporaneous  verses  in  that 
measure,  llian  in  the  ottava  rima  of  the  Italians.     And  yet  tlie   Italian  wears  its 

shackles  vrith  the  trreatestease. 


HOMER.     THE   EPIC   POETS.  113 

more  or  less  frequent  interpolations,  each  has  but  one 
primary  action  ;  which,  although  it  is  interrupted  by  fre- 
quent episodes,  could  hardly  have  been  introduced  by 
any  but  the  original  author ;  and  which  does  not  permit 
us  to  consider  either  of  these  poems  as  a  mere  collection 
of  scattered  rhapsodies.  It  is  certainly  a  gigantic  step,, 
to  raise  epic  poetry  to  the  unity  of  the  chief  action  ;  but 
the  idea  springs  from  the  very  nature  of  a  narration  ;  and 
therefore  it  did  not  stand  in  need  of  a  theory,  which  was 
foreign  to  the  age  ;  genius  was  able  of  itself  to  take  this 
step.'  Herodotus  did  something  similar  in  the  depart- 
ment of  history. 

We  hud  it  still  more  difficult  to  comprehend  how 
w^orks  of  this  extent  could  have  been  planned  and  ex- 
ecuted without  the  aid  of  letters,  and  preserved,  probably 
for  a  long  time,  till  they  were  finally  saved  from  perish- 
ing by  being  committed  to  writing.  We  will  not  here 
repeat  at  large,  what  has  already  been  said  by  others ; 
that  a  class  of  singers,  devoted  exclusively  to  this  busi- 
ness, coiild  easily  preserve  in  memory  much  more  ;  that 
the  poems  were  recited  in  parts,  and  therefore  needed  to 

'  A  more  plausible  objection  is  this  :  that  even  if  it  be  conceded,  that  it  was 
possible  to  invent  and  execute  such  large  poems,  they  would  have  answered  no 
end,  as  they  were  too  long  to  admit  of  being  recited  at  once.  But  a  reply  may 
be  made  to  this.  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey  could  not  be  recited  at  a  banquet.  But 
there  were  public  festivals  and  assemblies  which  lasted  many  days,  and  Herodo- 
tus read  aloud  the  nine  books  of  his  history,  in  a  succession  of  days  at  Olympia. 
The  Iliad  and  Odessey,  which,  when  free  from  interpolations,  were  perhaps  much 
shorter  than  they  now  are,  may  have  been  recited  in  the  course  of  several  days. 
And  if  we  may  be  permitted  to  indulge  in  conjecture,  why  may  they  not  have 
been  designed  for  such  occasions  .'  That  the  Greeks  were  accustomed  to  intel- 
lectual enjoyments,  interrupted  and  afterwards  continued,  appears  from  the 
Tetralogies  of  the  Dramatists  in  a  later  age.  This  is  characteristic  of  a  nation, 
which  even  in  its  pleasures  desired  something  more  than  pastime,  and  always 
aimed  at  grandeur  and  beauty. 
15 


114  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

be  remembered  only  in  parts ;  and  that  even  in  a  later 
age,  when  the  Homeric  poems  had  already  been  entrust- 
ed to  writing,  the  rhapsodists  still  knew  them  so  perfectly 
(as  we  must  infer  from  the  Ion  of  Plato),  that  they  could 
readily  recite  any  passage  which  was  desired.  But  let 
us  be  permitted  to  call  to  mind  a  fact,  which  has  come  to 
light  since  the  modern  inquiries  respecting  Homer,  and 
which  proves,  that  poems  of  even  greater  extent  than  the 
Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  can  live  in  the  memory  and 
mouths  of  a  nation.  The  Dschangariade  of  the  Calmucks 
is  said  to  surpass  the  poems  of  Homer  in  length,  as  much 
as  it  stands  beneath  them  in  merit  ;^  and  yet  it  exists 
only  in  the  memory  of  a  people,  w  hich  is  not  unacquaint- 
ed with  writing.  But  the  songs  of  a  nation  are  probably 
the  last  things  which  are  committed  to  writing,  for  the 
very  reason  that  they  are  remembered. 

But  whatever  opinions  may  be  entertained  on  the 
origin  of  these  poems,  and  whether  we  ascribe  them  to 
one  author  or  to  several,  it  will  hardly  be  doubted  that 
they  all  belong  on  the  whole,  to  one  age,  which  we  call 
in  a  larfi;er  sense,  the  age  of  Homer.  The  important 
fact  is,  that  we  possess  them.  Whatever  hypothesis  we 
may  adopt  on  their  origin  and  formation,  their  influence 
on  the  Grecian  nation  and  on  posterity  remains  the  same. 
And  these  are  the  topics  which  claim  our  regard. 

^  Sec  on  this  subject  B.  Bergmann,  Nomadisclie,  Strcifereyen  unter  den  Kal- 
mycken.  15.  2,  S.  213,  &c.  This  Calmuck  Homer  flourished  in  the  last  century. 
He  is  said  to  have  sung  three  liundred  and  sixty  cantos;  but  this  number  may 
1)0  exairtrorated.  Of  tlie  singers,  called  Dschangartschi,  it  is  not  easy  to  find  one, 
who  knows  more  tlian  twenty  by  heart.  In  the  fourth  part  of  his  work,  Mr. 
Bcrirmanu  has  given  us  a  translation  of  one  of  them,  which  is  about  equal  in 
length  to  a  rhapsody  of  Homer.  It  tlius  appears  to  be  no  uncommon  thing  for 
the  Calmuck  singers  to  retain  in  memory  a  poem  quite  as  long  as  the  Iliad  or 
Odyssev. 


HOMER.    THE   EPIC    POETS.  115 

It  was  Homer  who  formed  the  character  of  the  Greek 
nation.  No  poet  has  ever,  as  a  poet,  exercised  a  similar 
influence  over  his  countrymen.  Prophets,  lawgivers, 
and  sages  have  formed  the  character  of  other  nations  ;  it 
was  reserved  to  a  poet  to  form  that  of  the  Greeks.  This 
is  a  trait  in  their  character,  which  could  not  be  wholly 
erased  even  in  the  period  of  their  degeneracy.  When 
lawgivers  and  sages  appeared  in  Greece,  the  work  of 
the  poet  had  already  been  accomplished  ;  and  they  paid 
homage  to  his  superior  genius.  He  held  up  before  his 
nation  the  mirror,  in  which  they  were  to  behold  the 
world  of  gods  and  heroes  no  less  than  of  feeble  mor- 
tals, and  to  behold  them  reflected  with  purity  and  truth. 
His  poems  are  founded  on  the  first  feelings  of  human 
nature  ;  on  the  love  of  children,  wife,  and  country ; 
on  that  passion  which  outweighs  all  others,  the  love  of 
glory.  His  songs  were  poured  forth  from  a  breast,  which 
sympathized  with  all  the  feelings  of  man  ;  and  there- 
fore they  enter,  and  will  continue  to  enter,  every  breast, 
which  cherishes  the  same  sympathies.  If  it  is  granted 
to  his  immortal  spirit,  from  another  heaven  than  any  of 
which  he  dreamed  on  earth,  to  look  down  on  his  race,  to 
see  the  nations  from  the  fields  of  Asia  to  the  forests  of 
Hercynia,  performing  pilgrimages  to  the  fountain,  which 
his  magic  wand  caused  to  flow  ;  if  it  is  permitted  him 
to  overlook  the  whole  harvest  of  grand,  of  elevated,  of 
glorious  productions,  which  have  been  called  into  being 
by  means  of  his  songs  ;  wherever  his  immortal  sjjirit 
may  reside,  nothing  more  can  be  required  to  complete 
his  happiness. 

Wherever  writing  is  known,  where   it   is  used  for  the 
purpose  of  preserving  poems,  and  thus  a  poetic  litera- 


116  CHAPTER  SIXTH 

ture  is  formed,  the  muse  loses  her  youthful  freshness. 
Works  of  the  greatest  merit  may  still  be  produced  ;  but 
poetry  exerts  its  full  influence  only  so  long  as  it  is  con- 
sidered inseparable  from  recitation.  The  Homeric  poems 
were  therefore  so  far  from  having  produced  a  less  con- 
siderable effect,  because  they  for  a  long  time  were  not 
written  down,  that  the  source  of  their  power  lay  in  this 
very  circumstance.  They  entered  the  memory  and  the 
soul  of  the  nation.  If  we  were  better  acquainted  with 
the  forms  of  social  life,  which  were  prevalent  in  the 
cities  of  Ionia,  and  with  which  poetry  necessarily  stood 
in  the  closest  union,  we  should  be  able  to  judge  more 
definitely  of  its  effects.  The  nature  of  things  seems  to 
show,  that  there,  as  in  the  mother  country,  they  must 
have  been  sung  at  festivals  and  assemblies,  whether  pub- 
lic or  private.  This  custom  was  so  deeply  fixed  in  the 
nation,  that  it  continued  long  after  these  poems  were 
committed  to  writing,  and  were  thus  accessible  to  a 
reader,  and  in  fact,  that  it  was  declamation,  which  con- 
tinued to  give  them  their  full  effect.  We  need  but  call 
to  mind  the  remark,  which  Ion,  the  rhapsodist,  makes  to 
Socrates;^  "  I  see  the  hearers  now  weep  and  now  rise 
in  passion,  and  appear  as  if  deprived  of  sensation."  If 
the  r]ia])sodists  in  an  age,  when  all  that  was  divine  in 
their  art,  had  passed  away,  and  when  they  sung  only  for 
money,  could  produce  such  efHects,  how  great  must  have 
been  their  influence  in  the  period  of  their  greatest 
glory. 

Since  the    time   of  Homer,    and   chiefly  through  him, 
great  changes  in  the  relations  of  the  class  of  bards  neces- 

'  Plat.  Op  iv.  p.  190. 


HOMER.    THE   EPIC   POETS.  117 

sarily  took  place ;  and  the  traces  of  such  changes  are 
still  distinct.  Originally  they  sang  only  their  own  com- 
positions, but  now  it  became  the  custom  to  sing  those  of 
others,  which  they  had  committed  to  memory.  In  that 
part  of  Asia  which  was  inhabited  by  Greeks,  and  espe- 
cially at  Chios,  where  Homer  is  said  to  have  lived, ^  a 
particular  school  of  bards  was  formed  which,  even  among 
the  ancients,  were  known  by  the  name  of  the  Homeridae. 
Whether  these  consisted  originally  of  the  family  relations 
of  the  poet,  is  a  question  of  no  interest ;  it  became  the 
name  of  those  rhapsodists,  who  sang  the  poems  of  Ho- 
mer, or  those  attributed  to  him.  They  are  therefore 
distinguished  from  the  earlier  rhapsodists  by  this,  that 
they  sang  not  their  own  works,  but  those  of  another  ;  and 
this  appears  to  have  been  the"  first  change,  which  was 
effected,  though  without  design,  by  Homer.  But  we 
may  find  in  the  gradual  progress  of  the  cities,  and  the 
modes  of  living  in  them,  a  chief  cause  of  a  change  in  the 
rhapsodists,  which  could  not  be  very  advantageous  for 
them.  Fn  these  cities,  there  may  have  been  houses  of 
the  opulent,  and  public  halls,^  in  which  they  could  recite ; 
but  they  found  no  longer  the  dwellings  of  heroes  and 

'  According  to  the  well-known  passage  in  the  hymn  to  Apollo,  cited  by  Thu- 
cydides,  iii.  104.  "A  blind  man;  he  dwells  on  the  rocky  Chios;  and  his  songs 
are  the  first  among  men."  Even  if  this  hymn  be  not  by  Homer  (the  age  of  Thu- 
cydides  esteemed  it  certainly  his),  it  must  have  been  composed  in  an  age,  which 
approached  that  of  Homer.  That  Homer  was  an  inhabitant  of  Chios,  is  an  ac- 
count, for  the  truth  of  which  we  have  no  guaranty  but  tradition.  But  that  tra- 
dition is  a  very  ancient  one,  and  the  account  contains  nothing  which  is  in  itself 
improbable,  or  which  should  induce  us  to  doubt  its  accuracy. 

'  The  ?.(n^ai.  We  are  almost  involuntarily  reminded  of  similar  appearances, 
which  marked  the  decline  of  the  poetry  of  chivalry,  in  the  age  of  those  whom 
we  commonly  call  maslcr-singers.  The  inquiry  might  bo  made,  whether  the 
relations  of  city  life  had  an  equal  influence  on  the  school  or  fraternity  of  rhapsod- 
ists, who  separated  themselves  still  more  observably  from  the  rest  of  society  ? 


118  CHAPTER   SIXTH. 

kings.  Little  confidence  as  we  may  place  in  the  life  of 
Homer  attributed  to  Herodotus,  and  several  other  writ- 
ings ;  it  is  still  remarkable,  that  all  unite  in  describing 
the  fortunes  of  the  poet  during  his  lifetime,  as  by  no 
means  splendid.  But  his  songs  continued  to  live,  and, 
probably  in  the  very  first  century  after  the  poet,  were 
carried  by  Lycurgus  into  the  Peloponnesus ;  and  from 
the  same  school,  other  epic  poets  also  started  up,  whose 
works  have  been  overwhelmed  by  the  stream  of  time.* 
A  happy  accident  has  preserved  for  us  the  general  con- 
tents of  a  few  of  them  ;  ^  but,  though  these  accounts  are 
meagre,  we  may  still  infer  from  them,  that  even  among 
the  ancients,  they  were  chiefly  of  interest  to  the  profess- 
ed student  of  literature,  and  that  they  never  gained  any 
claim  to  be  called  national  poems.  But  the  works  of 
these,  and  so  many  others,  of  whom  we  know  only  the 
names,  show  how  generally  epic  poetry  was  extended 
among  the  nation.     After  the  epic  language   had  once 

^  The  Cyclic  poets,  as  they  are  called,  who  treated  subjects  of  mythological 
tradition,  or  the  c\-clus  of  traditions  respecting-  the  Trojan  expedition.  See  on 
this  subject,  Excurs.  i.  ad  A^.neid.  L,  ii.  ed.  Hoynii. 

"  In  the  selections  of  Proclus,  in  Bibl.  d.  alten  Litt.  und  Kunst.  St.  i.  Inedita, 
p.  1.  etc.  These  arc,  1.  The  Cyprian  poem,  probably  by  Stasinus  of  Cyprus.  It 
contained,  in  eleven  books,  the  earlier  events  of  the  Trojan  war  before  the  action 
of  the  Iliad.  2.  The  ^Ahiopis  of  Arctinus  the  Melesian;  containing,  in  five 
booli.<,  the  expedition  and  death  of  JNIemnon.  3.  The  small  Iliad  of  Lcschcs  of 
Mitylene  :  eisibraeino-,  in  four  books,  the  contention  of  Aja.x  and  Ulysses,  till  the 
pre[.nralion  of  the  Trojnn  horse.  4.  The  destruction  of  Troy  Cl/.luv  ;itnnis)  of 
Arctinus,  in  two  books.  5.  The  return  of  the  heroes  (lotrroi)  of  Augias,  in  five 
b(joktf.  ().  'j'he  Tele;^roniad,  or  fates  of  Uly.sses  after  his  return,  by  Euganimon, 
in  two  books.  The  contents  of  the;e  poems,  as  here  given,  show,  that  no  one 
ol  them  can  be  compared,  in  point  of  plan,  with  the  epopees  of  Homer.  Rut 
thuse  poems  also  must  for  a  longtime  have  been  preserved  by  song  alone  ;  for 
their  authors,  although  somewhat  younger  than  Homer,  still  lived  in  times, 
wlii'i.,  riccording  to  all  that  we  know,  letters  were  but  little  used,  or  perhaps  en- 
i.rcly  uukiio\Nii. 


HOMER.     THE   EPIC  POETS.  119 

been  perfected  by  Homer,  it  remained  peculiar  to  this 
kind  of  poetry ;  and  when  we  read  the  works  of  much 
later  poets,  of  Quintus,  or  of  Nonnus,  we  might  believe 
ourselves  employed  on  authors  many  centuries  older  than 
they,  had  we  not  other  evidence  beside  their  language  to 
fix  the  period  in  which  they  lived.  That  the  dialect  of 
Homer  remained  the  principal  one  for  this  class  of 
poetry,  had  an  important  influence  on  Grecian  literature. 
Amidst  all  the  changes  and  improvements  in  language,  it 
prevented  the  ancient  from  becoming  antiquated,  and 
secured  it  a  place  among  the  later  modes  of  expression. 
This  was  a  gain  for  the  language  and  for  the  nation. 
With  the  dialect  of  Homer,  his  spirit  continued  in  some 
measure  to  live  among  the  epic  poets.  Language  cannot 
of  itself  make  a  poet ;  but  yet  how  much  depends  on 
language.  If  in  those  later  poets  we  occasionally  hear 
echoes  of  Homer,  is  it  not  sometimes  his  spirit  which 
addresses  us  ? 

But  his  influence  on  the  spirit  of  his  countrymen  was 
much  more  important,  than  his  influence  on  their  lan- 
guage. He  had  delineated  the  world  of  heroes  in  colors 
which  can  never  fade.  He  had  made  it  present  to  pos- 
terity ;  and  thus  the  artist  and  the  tragic  poet  found  a 
sphere  opened  for  the  employment  of  their  powers  of 
representation.  And  the  scenes  from  which  they  drew 
their  subjects,  could  not  have  remained  foreign  to  their 
countrymen.  We  do  but  touch  on  this  subject,  in  order 
to  say  something  on  the  point,  which  lies  particularly 
within  the  circle  of  our  inquiries  ;  the  influence  which 
Homer  and  the  epic  poets  exercised  on  the  political  cha- 
racter of  their  countrymen. 

When  we  compare  the  scanty  fragments  which  are 


120  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

Still  extant,  respecting  the  circulation  and  preservation  of 
the  poems  of  Homer,  it  is  remarkable  that  in  Hellas 
itself,  the  lawgivers  and  rulers  were  the  most  active  in 
making  them  known  and  in  saving  them  from  perishing. 
Ljcurgus,  we  are  told,  was  the  first  who  introduced 
them  into  the  Peloponnesus  by  means  of  the  rhapsodists  ; 
Solon  esteemed  the  subject  so  important,  that  in  his  code 
of  laws,  he  formed  distinct  regulations,  in  conformity  to 
which  it  seems  probable  that  the  several  rhapsodies  were 
recited,  not  as  before  without  method,  but  in  their  natural 
order  by  several  rhapsodists,  who  relieved  each  other. 
All  this  prepared  for  the  undertaking  of  Pisistratus  ;  who, 
according  to  the  accounts  of  the  ancients,  not  only  ar- 
ranged the  poems  of  Homer,  but  gained  a  claim  to  the 
eternal  gratitude  of  posterity,  by  committing  them  to 
writing.^ 

This  care  in  those  illustrious  men  did  not  result  from 
a  mere  admiration  of  poetry.  That  it  was  connected 
with  political  views,  if  such  confirmation  were  needed, 
appears  from  the  circumstance,  that  Solon  took  notice  of 
it  in  his  laws.  Were  we  to  form  a  judgment  on  this 
subject  from  the  narrow  views  of  our  own  times,  it  would 
seem  strange,  that  they  who  founded  or  confirmed  the 
government  of  a  number,  even  a  democracy,  should  have 
labored  to  extend  the  productions  of  a  bard,  who  was 
o{)posed  to  their  principles,  and  declares  his  political 
creed  without  disguise  ;-  "  no  good  comes  of  the  govern- 
ment of  the  many  ;  let  one  be  ruler,  and  one  be  king  ;" 
and  in  whose  works,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  re- 

'  The  passno-es  in  proof  of  this  are  collected  and  duly  weighed  in  the  Prole- 

gonieua  of  AVolf,  p.  139,  &c, 
=  II.  ii.  204. 


HOMER.     THE   EPIC   POETS.  121 

publicanism  finds  no  support.  But  their  views  were  not 
so  limited.  Their  object  was  not  to  confirm,  by  means 
of  the  poet,  their  own  institutions  and  their  own  laws. 
They  desired  to  animate  their  nation  with  a  love  fi^r 
excellence  and  sublimity.  Poetry  and  song,  indissolubly 
united,  seemed  to  them  the  fittest  means  of  gaining  that 
end.  These  had  the  greatest  influence  on  the  intellect- 
ual culture  of  the  people.  And  if  that  culture  lay  within 
the  sphere  of  the  Grecian  lawgivers  (and  it  always  did, 
though  in  different  degrees),  of  what  importance  in  their 
eyes  must  that  poet  have  been,  whose  poems,  above  all 
others,  were  recited  by  the  class  of  rhapsodists,  that  lent 
a  glory  to  the  national  festivals  and  assemblies  ?  Solon, 
himself  one  of  the  first  of  moral  poets,  could  not  but  per- 
ceive, how  much  experience  and  knowledge  of  the  world 
are  contained  in  those  books,  with  which  youth  is  begun, 
and  to  which  age  returns.  No  fear  was  entertained,  lest 
the  narrations  respecting  the  gods  should  be  injurious  to 
morals ;  although  that  fear  afterwards  induced  Plato  to 
banish  them  from  his  republic  ;  the  philosopher,  who  but 
for  Homer,  never  could  have  become  Plato.  For,  as  we 
have  already  remarked,  the  gods  were  not  held  up  as 
models  for  imitation.  But  whilst  the  people  was  enrich- 
ing itself  with  that  infinite  treasure  of  practical  wisdom, 
it  continued  at  the  same  time  to  live  in  a  world  of  he- 
roes, and  to  preserve  living  sensibility  to  the  great  and  the 
noble.  Of  this  it  is  impossible  to  estimate  the  con- 
sequences, the  gain  of  the  nation  as  a  nation,  by  the  en- 
couragement of  its  warlike  spirit,  by  the  preservation  of 
its  love  of  liberty  and  independence.  In  one  respect, 
those  lawgivers  were  unquestionably  in  the  right ;  a  na- 
tion, of  which  the  culture  rested  on  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey, 
could  not  easily  be  reduced  to  a  nation  of  slaves. 


122  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


MEANS  OF  PRESERVING  THE   NATIONAL  CHARACTER. 

The  Greeks,  though  divided  at  home,  and  extended 
widely  in  foreign  countries,  always  considered  them- 
selves as  forming  but  one  nation.  The  character  of  the 
Hellenes  was  nowhere  obliterated  ;  the  citizen  of  Mas- 
silia  and  Byzantium,  retained  it  no  less  than  the  Spartan 
and  Athenian.  The  name  barbarian,  although  it  was 
applied  to  all  who  were  not  Greeks,  conveyed  a  second- 
ary idea,  which  was  closely  interwoven  with  the  Grecian 
character ;  that  they  esteemed  themselves  more  cultivated 
than  the  rest  of  the  world.  It  was  not  that  gross  kind 
of  national  pride,  which  despises  all  foreigners  because 
they  are  foreigners  ;  even  where  it  was  in  itself  unjust, 
its  origin  was  a  just  one. 

But  this  higher  culture  could  never  have  remained  a 
bond  of  national  union,  the  different  tribes  of  the  Hel- 
lenes possessed  it  in  such  different  degrees.  External 
marks  were  therefore  needed.  These  were  afforded  by 
two  things  ;  by  language,  and  certain  institutions  sanc- 
tioned by  religion. 

Various  and  different  as  were  the  dialects  of  the  Hel- 
lenes,'—  and  these  differences  existed  not  only  among 
the  various  tribes,  but  even  among  the  several  neighbor- 
ing cities,  —  they  yet  acknowledged  in  their  language, 

'  See  what  Herodotus  says  of  the  dialects  of  tlie  Grecian  cities  in  Asia;  i.  142. 


PRESERVATION   OF  THE   NATIONAL   CHARACTER.     123 

that  they  formed  but  one  nation,  were  but  branches  of 
the  same  family.  Those  who  were  not  Greeks,  were 
described  even  by  Homer,'  as  "  men  of  other  tongues  ;  " 
and  yet  Homer  had  no  general  name  for  the  nation.  But 
though  the  bond  of  a  common  language  may  be  a  natural 
and  an  indissoluble  one,  something  more  is  required  to 
make  it  serve  as  the  bond  of  national  union.  The  lan- 
guage must  be  not  merely  the  instrument  of  communi- 
cating thoughts  ;  for  it  is  that  to  every  savage  ;  something 
must  exist  in  it,  which  may  be  regarded  as  the  common 
property  of  the  nation,  because  it  is  precious  and  dear  to 
them  ;  the  works  of  poets,  and  next  to  them,  of  prose 
writers,  which  are  admired,  listened  to,  and  read  by  all. 
It  is  such  productions  which  make  a  language  peculiarly 
valuable  to  a  nation.  The  national  spirit,  and  manner 
of  thinking  and  feeling,  are  expressed  in  them  ;  the  na- 
tion beholds  in  them  its  own  portrait ;  and  sees  the  con- 
tinuance of  its  spirit  among  future  generations  secured. 
They  form  not  only  its  common  property,  in  which,  ac- 
cording "to  the  fullest  meaning  of  the  phrase,  each  tribe 
has  its  undisputed  share;  they  form  its  most  sublime,  its 
noblest,  its  least  perishable  property.^  In  what  a  light, 
therefore,  do  Homer,  and  those  who  trod  in  his  footsteps 
appear,  when  they  are  considered  from  this  point  of  view. 
Their  poems,  listened  to  and  admired  by  all  who  used 
the  Greek  language,  reminded  the  inhabitants  of  Hellas, 
of  Ionia,  and  of  Sicily,  in  the  liveliest  manner,  that  they 
were  brothers.  When  we  consider  the  Ions;  series  of 
ages,  during  which  the  poems  of  Homer  and  the  Homer- 

'  BaQ^(xoij(fv)yoi.     11.  ii.  8C7. 

^  See  Heeren's  Essay  on  the  means  of  preserving  the  nationality  of  a  con- 
quered people.     Historische  Werke,  B.  ii.  1.  1,  &c. 


124  CHAPTER   SEVENTH. 

idae  were  the  onlj  common  possession  of  the  Hellenes,  it 
may  even  be  made  a  question,  whether  without  them  they 
would  have  remained  a  nation.^  National  poetry  was 
therefore  the  bond,  which  held  them  together ;  but  this 
bond  was  strengthened  by  another  ;  by  that  of  religion. 
Unlike  the  religions  of  the  East,  the  religion  of  the 
Hellenes  was  supported  by  no  sacred  books,  was  con- 
nected with  no  peculiar  doctrines  ;  it  could  not,  there- 
fore, serve  like  the  former,  to  unite  a  nation  by  means  of 
a  common  religious  creed  ;  but  it  was  fitted  for  gaining 
that  end,  in  so  far  as  the  external  rites  of  religion  afford- 
ed opportunities.  But  as  the  nation  had  no  cast  of 
priests,  nor  even  a  united  order  of  priesthood,  it  naturally 
followed,  that  though  individual  temples  could  in  a  certain 
degree  become  national  temples,  this  must  depend,  for 
the  most  part,  on  accidental  circumstances ;  and  where 
every  thing  was  voluntary,  nothing  could  be  settled  by 
established  forms  like  those  which  prevailed  in  other 
countries.  The  temples  at  Olympia,  Delos,  and  Delphi, 
may  justly  be  denominated  national  temples,  although 
not  in  the  same  sense  in  which  we  call  those  of  the  Jews 
and  the  Egyptians  national  ;  but  their  effects  were 
perhaps  only  more  considerable  and  more  secure,  because 
every  tiling  connected  with  them  was  voluntary.  The 
fruits  of  civilization  came  forth,  and  were  matured,  under 
the  protection  of  these  sanctuaries  also  ;  though  not  in 
the  same  manner  as  in  Egypt  and  Ethiopia  f  and  when 
we  hear  of  national  festivals,^  oracles,  and  Amphictyonic 


'  And  how  would  the  Greeks  constitute  a  nation  but  for  their  poetry  and  liter- 
ature ? 
^  Heeren.  Ideen.  etc.     Th.  ii.  487,  &c. 
■^  The  Greek  word  for  them,  is  :Tai»;yi  §t/?. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE   NATIONAL   CHARACTER.       125 

assemblies,  other  ideas  are  connected  with  them,  than 
were  awakened  by  the  temples  in  the  countries  just 
named.  But  let  it  not  be  forgotten,  that  all  these  fruits, 
of  which  we  must  make  mention  separately,  ripened  on 
one  and  the  same  branch ;  that  they,  therefore,  closely 
united,  could  ripen  only  together ;  that  by  this  very 
means  they  gained  a  higher  value  in  the  eyes  of  the 
nation  ;  and  that  this  value  must  be  estimated  by  their 
influence,  rather  than  by  what  they  were  in  themselves. 
We  shall  hardly  be  mistaken,  if  we  consider  those 
sanctuaries  the  most  ancient,  which  were  celebrated  for 
their  oracles.  Those  of  Dodona  and  Delphi  were  de- 
clared to  be  so  by  the  voice  of  the  nation  ;  and  both  of 
them,  especially  that  of  Delphi,  were  so  far  superior  to 
the  rest,  that  they  are  in  some  measure  to  be  esteemed 
as  the  only  national  oracles.^  Olympia,  it  is  true,  had 
originally  an  oracle  also  f  but  from  unknown  causes,  it 
became  hushed,  probably  just  after  the  distinguished 
success  of  the  oracles  of  Apollo.  We  leave  to  others  all 
farther  investigation  of  these  institutions ;  the  question 
which  claims  our  attention,  is,  how  far  they  contributed 
to  preserve  the  spirit  and  the  union  of  the  nation.  They 
did  not  effect  this  by  being  regarded  as  intended  only 


'  The  number  of  Grecian  oracles,  constantly  increasing,  became,  as  is  well 
known,  exceedingly  numerous.  With  the  exception  of  that  of  Dodona,  which 
was  of  Egyptio-Pelasgic  oricrin,the  oracles  of  the  Greeks  were  almost  exclusively 
connected  with  the  worship  of  Apollo.  We  know  of  more  than  fifty  of  his 
oracles  ;  (see  Bulenger  de  oraculis  et  vatibus,  in  Thes.  Ant.  Gr.  vol.  vii.)  of  the 
few  others,  the  more  celebrated  owed  their  origin  to  the  same  god,  as  those  of 
Mopsus  and  Trophonius  to  whom  he  had  imparted  the  gift  of  prophesying.  How 
much  of  the  rites  of  religion  among  the  Hellenes  depended  on  the  religion  of 
Apollo.  New  light  is  shed  on  this  subject  by  C.  O.  Muller,  in  his  volume  on  the 
Dorians  :  i.  199. 

^  Strabo,  viii.  p.  542. 


126  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

for  the  Hellenes.  Foreigners  also  were  permitted  to 
consult  the  oracles ;  and  to  recompense  the  answers 
which  they  received  by  consecrated  presents.  But  this 
took  place  only  in  individual  cases  ;  and  was  done  pro- 
bably by  none  but  rulers  and  kings,  from  the  time  when 
Alyattes  first  made  application  at  Delphi.^  In  other 
cases,  the  difference  of  language  was  alone  sufficient  to 
keep  foreigners  away,  as  the  Pythian  priestess  spoke 
always  in  Greek.  These  institutions  belonged,  if  not 
exclusively,  yet  principally  to  the  Hellenes  ;  of  whom 
both  individuals  and  cities  could  always  have  access  to 
them.  They  formed  the  connecting  link  between  politics 
and  the  popular  religion.  Their  great  political  influence, 
especially  in  the  states  of  the  Doric  race,  is  too  well 
known  from  history  to  make  it  necessary  for  us  to  adduce 
proofs  of  it.  That  influence  doubtless  became  less  after 
the  Persian  wars.  Whether  this  diminution  of  influence 
was  injurious  or  advantageous  cannot  easily  be  decided. 
When  the  reciprocal  hatred  of  the  Athenians  and  Spartans 
excited  them  to  the  fury  of  civil  war,  how  much  suffering 
would  have  been  spared  to  Greece,  if  the  voice  of  the 
gods  had  been  able  to  avert  the  storm.  But  the  affiiirs 
of  the  Delphic  temple  were  still  considered  as  the  con- 
cern of  the  Grecian  nation  ;  and  even  after  infidelity  had 
usurped  the  place  of  the  ancient  superstition,  the  viola- 
tion of  the  sanctuary  gave  the  politicians  a  pretence, 
sufficient  to  kindle  a  civil  war,  which  was  destined  to 
cost  Greece  its  liberties. 

Among    the    numerous    festivals    which    the    several 
Grecian  cities  were  accustomed  to  celebrate,  there  were 

I  Herod,  i.  9. 


PRESERVATION   OF  THE   NATIONAL   CHARACTER.       127 

some,  which,  from  causes  that  are  no  longer  well  known, 
or  were  perhaps  quite  accidental,  soon  became  reallj  na- 
tional. At  these,  foreigners  could  be  spectators ;  but 
the  Hellenes  alone  were  permitted  to  contend  for  the 
prizes.  The  right  to  do  so  belonged  to  the  inhabitant  of 
the  farthest  colony,  as  well  as  of  the  mother  country, 
and  was  esteemed  inalienable  and  invaluable.  Even 
princes  were  proud  of  the  privilege,  for  which  the  Persian 
king  himself  would  have  sued  in  vain,  of  sending  their 
chariots  to  the  races  of  Olympia.  Every  one  has  learned 
from  the  hymns  of  Pindar,  that,  beside  the  Olympic' 
contests,  the  Pythian  games  at  Delphi,  the  Nemean  at 
Argos,  and  the  Isthmian  at  Corinth,  belong  to  the  same 
class.  As  to  the  origin  of  these  games,  Homer  does  not 
make  mention  of  them,  which  he  would  hardly  have 
neglected  to  do,  if  they  had  existed  or  been  famous  in 
his  day.  Yet  the  foundation  of  them  was  laid  in  so  re- 
mote a  period  of  antiquity,  that  it  is  attributed  to  gods 
and  heroes.  Uncertain  as  are  these  traditions,  it  is  re- 
markable, that  a  different  origin  is  attributed  to  each  one 
of  them.  Those  of  Olympia  were  instituted  by  Hercu- 
les, on  his  victorious  return,  and  were  designed  as  con- 
tests in  bodily  strength  ;  those  of  Delphi  were  in  their 
origin  nothing  but  musical  exercises  ;  although  others 
were  afterwards  added  to  them.  Those  of  Nemea  were 
originally  funeral  games ;  respecting  the  occasion  of  in- 
stituting those  of  the  Isthmus,  there  are  different  ac- 
counts.^ 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  origin  of  the  games, 

'  All  the  passages  on  the  origin  and  the  arrangements  of  the  games,  may  be 
found  collected  in  Sclimidtii  Prolegomenis  ad  Pindarum  ;  Potter's  Archaeologia  ; 
and  Corsini  Dissertationes  agonisticce  ;  and  others. 


128  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

they  became  national  ones.  This  did  not  certainly  take 
place  at  once  ;  and  we  should  err,  if  we  should  apply 
the  accounts  given  us  of  the  Olympic  games  in  the 
flourishing  periods  of  Greece,  to  the  earlier  ages.  On  the 
contrary,  from  the  accurate  registers  which  were  kept  by 
the  judges,  we  learn  most  distinctly,  with  respect  to 
these  games,  that  they  gained  their  importance  and 
character  by  degrees.'  They  have  not  forgotten  to 
mention,  when  the  different  kinds  of  contests  (for  at  first 
there  were  none  but  in  racing),  were  permitted  and 
adopted.  But  still  these  games  gained  importance,  al- 
though it  was  only  by  degrees  ;  and  the  time  came, 
when  they  merited  to  be  celebrated  by  a  Pindar. 

In  this  manner,  therefore,  these  festivals  and  the  games 
connected  with  them,  received  a  national  character.  They 
were  peculiar  to  the  Grecians  ;  and  on  that  account  also 
wore  of  great  utility.  "  Those  are  justly  praised,"  Iso- 
crates  ^  very  happily  observes,  "  who  instituted  these 
famous  assemblies,  and  thus  made  it  customary  for  us  to 
come  together  as  allies,  having  set  aside  our  hostilities  ; 
to  increase  our  friendshi])  by  recalling  our  relationship  in 
our  common  vows  and  sacrifices  ;  to  renew  our  ancient 
family  friendships,  and  to  form  new  ones.  They  have 
provided,  that  neither  the  unpolished  nor  the  well  edu- 
cated should  leave  the  games  without  profit  ;  but  that  in 
this  assembly  of  the  Hellr-nes  in  one  place,  some  may 
dis])lay  their  wealth,  and  others  observe  the  contests,  and 
none  bo  present  without  a  purpose,  but  each  have  some- 
tliin,^-  of  vvliich  to  boast  ;  the  one  part,  while  they  see 
tiioj-o  eii£a<iod  in  tlie  contests  making  exertions  on  their 


Son  [^aiisanias  in  Eliriois.  1.  v.  9 
Isociales.  Paiietryr.  Op.  p.  4iJ.  !;tepli. 


PRESERVATION   OF  THE    NATIONAL   CHARACTER.     129 

account ;  the  other,  when  they  consider  that  all  this  con- 
course of  people  has  assembled,  to  be  spectators  of  their 
contests." 

The  accounts  which  we  read  of  the  splendor  of  these 
games,  especially  of  the  Olympic,  where  the  nation  of 
the  Hellenes  appeared  in  its  glory,  give  a  high  idea  of 
them.  And  yet  it  was  public  opinion,  far  more  than  the 
reality,  which  gave  to  the  crown  of  victory  its  value. 
The  glory  of  being  conqueror  in  them,  was  the  highest 
with  which  the  Grecian  was  acquainted  ;  it  conferred 
honor,  not  only  on  him  who  won  the  palm,  but  on  his 
family  and  on  his  native  city.  He  was  not  honored  in 
Olympia  alone  ;  his  victory  was  the  victory  of  his  native 
place  ;  here  he  was  solemnly  received  ;  new  festivals 
were  instituted  on  his  account;  he  had  afterwards  a  right 
of  living  at  the  public  charge  in  the  prytanea.  A  victory 
at  Olympia,  says  Cicero  with  truth,'  rendered  the  victor 
illustrious,  no  less  than  his  consulate  the  Roman  consul. 
The  tournaments  of  the  middle  age  were  something  simi- 
lar ;  or  might  have  become  something  similar,  if  the  rela- 
tions of  society  had  not  prevented.  But  as  a  distinct 
line  of  division  was  drawn  between  the  classes,  they  be- 
came interestins:  to  l)ut  one  class.  Birth  decided  who 
could  take  a  ])art  in  them,  and  who  were  excluded. 
There  was  nothing  of  that  among  the  Hellenes.  The 
lowest  of  the  people  could  join  at  Olympia  in  the  con- 
test for  the  branch  of  the  sacred  olive-tree,  as  well  as 
Alcibiades,  or  even  the  ruler  of  Syracuse  with  all  the 
splendor  of  his  equipage. 

The  influence  on  the  political  relations  of  the  Grecian 

'  Cicero.  Quajbt.  Tusc.  ii.  17. 
17 


130  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

States,  was  perhaps  not  so  e;reat  as  Isocrates  represents. 
A  solemnitj  of  a  few  days  could  hardly  be  sufficient  to 
cool  the  passions  and  still  the  mutual  enmities  of  the 
several  tribes.  History  mentions  no  peace,  which  was 
ever  negotiated,  and  still  less  which  was  ever  concluded 
at  Olympia.  But  so  much  the  greater  was  the  influence 
exercised  over  the  culture  of  the  nation  ;  and  if  the  cul- 
ture of  a  nation  decides  its  character,  our  plan  requires 
of  us  to  pause  and  consider  it. 

In  all  their  institutions,  when  they  are  considered  in 
the  light  in  which  the  Greeks  regarded  them,  we  shall 
commonly  find  proofs  of  the  noble  dispositions  of  the 
Hellenes.  And  these  are  to  be  observed  in  the  games, 
where  every  thin^,  which  was  in  itself  beautiful  and 
glorious ;  bodily  strength  and  skill  in  boxing  ;  wrestling, 
and  running  ;  the  splendor  of  opulence,  as  displayed  in 
the  equipages  for  the  chariot  races  ;  excellence  in  poetry, 
and  soon  also  in  other  intellectual  productions,  were  here 
rewarded,  each  with  its  prize.  But  the  degree  of 
importance  assigned  to  the  productions  of  mind  was  not 
every  where  the  same.  Musical  contests,^  in  which  the 
Greeks  united  poetry,  song,  and  music,  were  common  in 


'  The  Greeks  made  a  distinction  between  ayioiec  yvuny.ol  and  uotaiy.ol.  The 
former  relate  to  the  exercises  of  the  body  ;  the  latter  to  tlie  works  of  genius  ; 
tli:it  is,  to  poetry,  and  whatever  was  connected  with  it.  At  these  festivals  it 
never  enter  d  the  mind  of  the  Greeks  to  institute  prizes  for  competitors  in  the 
arts  of  (lesiirn  ;  at  least  not  in  the  plastic  art.  (  Pliny,  however,  mentions  a 
competition  of  painters,  xxxv.  35.)  The  cause  of  this  may  in  part  be,  that  those 
arts  were  not  so  soon  brought  to  perfection  as  the  former  ones;  but  the  cause 
was  ratiier  that  the  Greeks  conceived  it  proper  to  institute  competition  only  in 
those  uris,  of  which  the  results  were  temporary  ;  and  not  in  those,  of  which 
the  [iroductions  arc  exhibited  in  public,  and  are  lasting;  for  in  thenj,  as  in 
sculpture  for  example,  there  is  a  constant  exhibition,  and  therefore  a  constant 
emulation. 


PRESERVATION   OF   THE  NATIONAL   CHARACTER.      131 

those  larger  games,  as  well  as  in  those  hardlj  less  splen- 
did ones,  which  were  instituted  in  the  several  cities. 
But  there  was  a  difference  in  their  relative  importance. 
At  Olympia,  though  they  were  not  entirely  excluded, 
they  were  yet  less  essential;^  they  formed  from  the  be- 
ginning the  primary  object  in  the  Pytliian  games.  They 
held  the  same  rank  in  several  festivals  of  the  smaller 
cities,  in  the  Panathenaea  at  Athens,  in  Delos,^  at  Epi- 
daurus,  Ephesus,  and  other  places.  But  even  where  no 
actual  competition  took  place,  every  one  who  felt  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  talents,  was  permitted  to  come  for- 
ward with  the  productions  of  art.  The  rhapsodist  and 
the  performer  on  the  flute,  the  lyric  poet,  the  historian, 
and  the  orator,  had  each  his  place.  The  hymns  of  Pin- 
dar were  chanted  in  honor  of  the  victors,  not  in  emula- 
tion of  others  ;  and  Herodotus  had  no  rival  when  he  read 
the  books  of  his  history  at  Olympia.  The  Hellenes 
made  room  for  every  thing  which  was  glorious  and  beau- 
tiful, and  it  was  especially  at  Olympia  and  Delphi, 
that  the  observer  of  the  character  of  the  Greeks  could 
justly  break  forth  in  exckmiations  of  admiring  aston- 
ishment. 

The  Amphictyonic  assemblies,  as  they  were  called  by 
the  Grecians,  appear  to  have  exercised  a  still  greater  in- 


'  See  the  instructive  Versuch  von  den  niusicalischen  Wettstreiteii  d^r  Alten, 
which  is  to  be  found  in  der  neuen  Hibl.  der  Schoiien  Wissenschaften,  B.  vii. 

^  The  musical  contests  in  Delos,  with  which  gymnastic  exercises  soon  came 
to  be  connected,  were  the  most  ancient  Ionic  national  games  ;  as  Thucydides, 
iii.  104,  has  already  proved  from  the  Homeric  hymn  to  Apollo.  They  were 
originally  connected  with  the  service  of  that  god,  and  were  communicated 
with  it  by  the  lonians  to  the  Dorians.  Hence  they  were  not  regarded  at 
Olympia,  Nemea,  and  on  the  Isthmus,  as  forming  an  essential  part  of  the  so- 
lemnity. 


132  CHAPTER   SEVENTH. 

fluence  on  political  union. ^  Under  that  name  the  as- 
semblies are  signified,  that  were  held  in  some  common 
temple  by  several  tribes  which  occupied  the  territory 
round  it,  or  by  neighboring  cities,  in  order  to  consult  on 
the  affairs  connected  with  the  sanctuary,  and  on  others 
of  a  more  general  nature.  It  was  therefore  character- 
istic of  these  assemblies,  first,  that  a  temple  or  sanctuary 
formed  their  central  point ;  farther,  that  several  tribes  or 
cities  participated  in  them  ;  thirdly,  that  assemblies  of 
the  people,  festivals,  and,  of  course,  games  were  con- 
nected with  them  ;  and  fourthly,  that  besides  these  pop- 
ular assemblies  and  festivals,  deputies  under  various 
names,  (Theori,  Pylagorse)  were  sent  by  the  several 
states  which  participated  in  them,  to  deliberate  on  sub- 
jects of  common  interest.  We  shall  be  able  to  see  these 
institutions  in  their  true  light,  after  taking  a  view  of  the 
origin  of  temples  in  Greece. 

As  soon  as  the  manners  of  cities  were  distinctly  formed 
with  the  Greeks,  and  the  individual  cities  in  the  mother 
country,  no  less  than  in  the  colonies,  had  for  the  most 
part  become  rich  by  means  of  commerce  and  industry  in 
the  arts,  temples  were  built  by  single  towns.  Beside 
this,  as  we  shall  show  more  fully  in  another  place,  the 
luxury  of  the  public  was  connected  almost  exclusively 
with  these  temples,  and  they  were  to  serve  as  the  measure 
of  tlic  splendor  and  wealth  of  the  respective  cities.  The 
building  of  temples,  therefore,  became,  especially  after 
the  Persian  wars,  and  even  a  century  before  them,  a 
matter,  in  which  the  honor  of  the  cities  was  concerned, 

'  The   Greek  word   is  sometimes  spelt  aucpiyrlorfc,  those,  who  dwell   round 
about,  sometimes  uinf.iy.Tvovtg  from  the  hero  Amphictyon,  called  by  tradition  the 

founder  of  the  same. 


PRESERVATION   OF   THE   NATIONAL    CHARACTER.         133 

and  their  public  spirit  was  exhibited.  In  this  manner 
that  multitude  of  temples  arose,  which  still  present,  in 
their  numerous  ruins,  masterpieces  of  architecture.  But 
it  was  not  and  could  not  have  been  so  in  the  earliest 
times.  The  building  of  a  temple  was  then  commonlj  a 
joint  undertaking  ;  partly  because  these  temples,  however 
they  may  have  been  inferior  to  the  later  ones,^  were 
still  too  costly  to  be  erected  by  the  separate  communities  ; 
and  partly  and  chiefly  because  such  common  sanctuaries 
were  needed  for  celebrating  the  common  festivals  of 
each  tribe. 

Such  a  sanctuary  formed  in  some  measure  a  point  of 
union.  It  was  an  object  of  common  care ;  it  became 
necessary  to  watch  over  the  temple  itself,  its  estates,  and 
its  possessions  ;  and  as  this  could  not  be  done  by  the 
several  communities  at  large,  what  was  more  natural, 
than  to  depute  envoys  for  the  purpose  ?  But  in  a  nation, 
where  every  thing  was  freely  developed,  and  so  little 
was  fixed  by  established  forms,  it  could  not  but  happen, 
that  other  affairs  of  general  interest  should  occasionally 
be  discussed  ;  either  at  the  popular  festivals,  or  in  the 
assemblies  of  the  delegates ;  and  that  is  the  most  proba- 
ble, as  the  allies  considered  themselves,  for  the  most 
part,  as  branches  of  the  same  nation.  They  became 
therefore  the  points  of  political  union  ;  the  idea  of  a 
formal  alliance  was  not  vet  connected  with  them,  but 
might  be  expected  from  their  maturity. 

We  find  traces  of  such  Amphictyonic  assemblies  in 
Greece  itself,  and  in  the  colonies.^     Their  origin,  espe- 

'   See  what  Pausanias,  x.  p.  810,  says  of  the  temples,  which  were  successively 
built  at  Delphi. 

^  A  catalogue  of  them,  which  might  perhaps  be  enlarged,  has  been  given  by 


134  CHAPTER   SEVENTH. 

cially  in  the  mother  country,  is  very  ancient ;  and  we 
may  in  most  cases  assert,  and  with  justice,  that  it  beh)ngs 
to  the  period,  when  the  republican  forms  of  government 
were  not  yet  introduced,  and  the  constitutions  of  the 
tribes  were  in  vigor.  For  we  find  that  those  who  shared 
in  them,  were  much  more  frequently  influenced  to  as- 
semble by  tribes  than  by  cities.  And  this  afibrds  an 
obvious  reason,  why  they  lost  their  influence  as  the  na- 
tion advanced  in  culture,  except  where  peculiar  causes 
operated  to  preserve  them.  In  the  flourishing  period  of 
Greece,  most  of  them  had  become  mere  antiquities, 
which  were  only  occasionally  mentioned  ;  or,  if  they 
continued  in  the  popular  festivals  which  were  connected 
with  them,  (and  popular  festivals  are  always  longest  pre- 
served), they  were  but  bodies  without  soul.  This  result 
was  a  necessary  one,  since,  on  the  downfall  of  the  con- 
stitutions of  the  tribes,  the  whole  political  life  of  the  na- 
tion was  connected  with  the  cities,  the  spirit  of  the  tribes 
had  become  annihilated  by  the  spirit  of  the  cities,  and 
each  of  the  cities  had  erected  its  own  temples. 


St.  Croix,  Dcs  ancicns  Gouvernements  fedcratifs,  p.  115,  &c.  We  follow  him,  as 
it  will  aflord  at  the  same  time,  proofs  of  what  has  been  said  above.  There  was 
such  an  Amphictyonia  in  BcEotia,  at  Orchestus,  in  a  temple  of  Neptune  ;  in 
Attica,  in  a  temple,  of  which  the  name  is  not  mentioned;  at  Corinth,  on  the 
isthmus,  in  the  temple  of  Neptune;  in  the  island  Calauria,  near  Argolis,also  in 
a  temple  of  Neptune  ;  another  in  Argolis,  in  the  celebrated  temple  of  Juno 
{'iroyror);  in  Elis,  in  a  temple  of  Neptune;  also  on  the  Grecian  islands;  in 
Euboca,  in  the  temple  of  Diana  Amaurusia;  in  Delos,  in  the  temple  of  Apollo,  the 
Panegyris,  of  which  we  have  already  made  mention,  and  which  served  for  all 
the  neighboring  islands  ;  in  Asia,  the  Panionium  at  Mycale,  afterwards  at 
Ephesus,  for  the  lonians;  the  temple  of  Apollo  Triopius  for  the  Dorians;  for  the 
^•^olians,  the  temple  of  Apollo  Grynseus.  Even  the  neighboring  Asiatic  tribes, 
the  Carians  and  the  Lycians,  had  similar  institutions,  either  peculiar,  or  adopted 
of  the  Greeks.  The  proofs  of  these  accounts  may  be  found  collected  in  the 
abovementioned  author, 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE   NATIONAL  CHARACTER.  135 

Yet  of  these  Amphictyonic  councils,  one  rose  to  a 
higher  degree  of  importance,  and  always  preserved  a 
certain  measure  of  dignity ;  so  that  it  was  called,  by 
way  of  eminence,  the  Amphictyonic  council.  This  w-as 
the  one  held  at  Delphi  and  Thermopylae.^  When  we 
bear  in  mind  the  ideas  which  have  just  been  illustrated, 
we  shall  hardly  be  led  to  expect,  that  the  nation,  in  its 
whole  extent,  would  ever  have  been  united  by  any  com- 
mon bond  ;  and  still  less  that  this  bond  should  have  been 
more  closely  drawn  with  the  progress  of  time,  and  finally 
have  united  all  the  Grecian  states  in  one  political  body. 
But  this  Amphictyonic  assembly  contributed  much  to  the 
preserving  of  national  feeling  and  national  unity,  and 
as  such  deserves  to  be  considered  by  us  with  more  at- 
tention. 

Strabo  concedes,^  that  even  in  his  time  it  w'as  impos- 
sible to  ascertain  the  origin  of  the  Amphictyonic  assem- 
bly ;  this  however  was  certain,  that  it  belonged  to  remote 
antiquity.  We  must  here  remark,  that  Homer  does  not 
make  any  mention  of  it ;  and  yet  Homer  speaks  of  the 
wealthy  Delphi  f  and  although  his  silence  affords  no 
proof  that  it  did  not  exist,  we  may  at  least  infer,  that  the 
council  was  not  then  so  important  as  at  a  later  day. 
The  causes  which  made  this  Amphictyonia  so  much  su- 
perior to  all  the  rest,  arc  not  expressly  given  ;  but  should 
we  err,  if  we  were  to  look  for  them  in  the  ever  increasing 


'  According  to  Strabo,  ix.  p.  239,  it  does  not  appear  that  the  assembly  was 
held  alternately  at  Delphi  and  ThermopyliE  ;  but  the  deputies  first  came  togelher 
at  Thermopylae  to  sacrifice  to  Ceres  ;  and  then  proceeded  to  Delphi,  where  busi- 
ness was  transacted. 

^  Strabo,  1.  c.  The  special  inquiries  on  this  subject  may  be  found  discussed  in 
the  prize  Essay  of  Tittman,  on  the  Amphictyonic  League,     Berlin,  1612. 

3  II.  ix.  404,  405.     Homer  calls  it  Pytho. 


136  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

dignity  and  influence  of  the  Delphic  oracle  ?  When  we 
call  to  mind  the  great  imjDortance  attached  to  the  liberty 
of  consultins:  this  oracle,  scarcely  a  doubt  on  the  subject 
can  remain.  The  states  which  were  members  of  this 
Amphictvonia,  had  no  exclusive  right  to  that  privilege  ; 
but  had  the  care  of  the  temple,  and  therefore  of  the  ora- 
cle, in  their  hands. ^  No  ancient  writer  has  preserved  for 
us  so  accurate  an  account  of  the  regulations  of  that  insti- 
tution, that  all  important  questions  respecting  them  can 
be  answered  ;  and  those  who  speak  of  them  do  not  agree 
with  each  other.  But  from  a  comparison  of  their  state- 
ments, we  may  infer,  that  though  this  Amphictvonia  did 
not  bv  anv  means  embrace  the  whole  of  the  Hellenes, 
vet  the  most  considerable  states  of  the  mother  country 
and  of  Asia  Elinor  took  part  in  it.  According  to  .Eschi- 
nes,- there  were  twelve  of  them  (although  he  enumerates 
but  eleven)  :  Thessalians.  Boeotians,  (not  the  Thebans 
onlv.  he  expressly  remarks.)  Dorians.  lonians,  Perrhec- 
bians.  ]\Iao;neslans.  Phthiotians.  ^laleans,^  Phocians, 
G-]t;rans.  Lociians  :  the  twelfth  state  was  probably  the 
Dolori.ins.'     Everv  eitv   belouirino-  to  these  tribes,  had 


>  Individual  states  obtained  the  riirlit  of  being  the  first  to  consult  the  oracle, 
-T_   .  .-■75..;.  and  this  ri^ht  was  valued  very  highly. 

'  .rsr'rir.LS  do  Falsi  Legatione  iii.  p.  SSo.  ed.  Reisk.  This  is  the  most  impor- 
t.'.r.t  •.v:5>--e.  St.  Cro;\.  p. 'JT.  has  compared  the  discrepant  accounts  of  Pausanias 
X  ;.i.  ~l'.:ir.d  Harpocra-.ion  v  ../..^^zit  if.-.  Tiie  authority  of  .Eschincs  res!>ect- 
ir.j  r.-.s  own  t-..r.os.  seems  to  me  of  niore  weight  tlian  all  the  others  :  and  there- 
{.'•.e  I  fo'.low  i;;:n  a'.one.  No  man  had  bettor  moans  of  information  than  he.  But 
mar.v  ciiai.jes  m  the   regulations  wore  subsequently  made  by  tiie  Macedonians 

=  T:>:  f  ;;r  ;.•-!  were  all  m  Tiitssaly.  The  reason  of  their  being  thus  distin- 
::v.'s'-.;l:  \:?'.:^  ::>:•  rest  of  tiie  Tiiossalians  is  probablv  to  be  found  in  die  privilege, 
wi.;^:i  '.iiev  h.u;  preserved,  ot  a  separate  vole.     Herodotus  vii.  13'2.  divides  them 

in  t:ie  same  manner. 
*  Heeron.  n.  o>l. 


PRESERVATION   OF   THE   NATIONAL   CHARACTER.      137 

the  right  of  sending  deputies  ;  the  smallest  had  an  equal 
right  with  the  largest ;  and  the  votes  of  all  were  equal  ; 
of  the  lonians,  says  iEschines,  the  deputies  from  Eretria 
in  Euboea  and  from  Priene  in  Asia  Minor,^  were  equal  to 
those  from  Athens  ;  of  the  Dorians,  those  from  Dorium  in 
Laconia,  and  from  Cytinium  on  Parnassus,  had  as  much 
weight  as  those  from  Lacedaemon.  But  the  votes  were 
not  counted  by  cities,  but  by  tribes  ;  each  tribe  had  two 
votes,  and  the  majority  decided.^ 

And  how  large  was  the  sphere  of  action,  in  which  this 
assembly  was  accustomed  to  exert  its  influence  ?  Its 
first  duty  was  to  take  charge  of  the  temple  ;  its  property  ; 
its  presents,  the  offerings  of  piety  ;  its  sanctity.  From 
this  it  naturally  follows,  that  the  assembly  possessed  judi- 
ciary powers.  Persons  who  had  committed  sacrilege  on 
the  temple,  were  summoned  before  its  tribunal,  where 
judgment  was  passed  and  the  acts  of  penance  and  punish- 
ment decreed.^  But  to  these,  j)olitical  objects  were 
added  at  a  very  early  period  ;  such  as  the  preservation  of 
peace  among  the  confederates,  and  the  accommodating  of 
contentions,  which  iiad  arisen.  We  have,  it  is  true,  no 
proof,  that  those  who  participated  in  the  assembly,  con- 
sidered themselves  as  nearly  allied  to  each  other  ;    but  it 

'  It  is  therefore  certain,  that  the  individual  colonifs  in  Asia  INIinor  participated 
in  the  assembly.  We  mi[rlit  siifrgcst  the  question,  vvliether  all  the  Asiatic  colo- 
nies, and  whether  colonies  in  other  regions,  did  the  same. 

*  For  all  farther  knowled^'o  which  we  have  of  the  rcsrulations  of  the  Aniphic- 
tjonic  council,  we  are  indebted  to  Strabo  ix.  p.  2S!).  According  to  him  each  city 
sent  a  deputy.  These  assembled  twice  a  year,  at  tin;  cquino.xcs.  We  are  igno- 
rant of  the  length  of  the  sessions  of  the  assonihly,  whether  any  definite  time  was 
fixed  for  tliem,or  not;  and  of  many  otiier  things  respecting  them. 

••  As  for  instance,  against  the    Phocians  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  sacred 
war  ;  and  aflerwaids  against  the  Locrians.     Demosthenes  has  preserved  for  us 
two  of  these  decrees  (doyKaTu),  Op.  i.  p.  278.  Reisk.     From  them   we  learn  the 
forms  in  which  they  were  written. 
18 


138  CHAPTER   SEVENTH. 

is  as  little  doubtful,  that  under  the  protection  of  this 
sanctuary,  certain  ideas  arose  and  were  diffused,  which 
might  be  considered  as  forming,  in  some  measure,  the 
foundation  of  a  system  of  national  law,  although  it  was 
never  brought  to  maturity.  Of  this  we  have  indisputable 
proof  in  the  ancient  oaths,  which  were  taken  by  all  the 
members  of  the  assembly,  and  which  have  been  preserved 
by  iEschines.^  "  I  read,"  says  the  orator,  "  in  the  as- 
sembly the  oaths,  to  which  the  heaviest  imprecations 
were  attached  ;  and  by  which  our  ancestors^  were 
obliged  to  promise  never  to  destroy  any  one  of  the  Am- 
phictyonic  cities,^  nor  to  cut  off  their  streams,'*  whether 
in  war  or  in  peace  ;  should  any  city  dare,  notwithstand- 
ing, to  do  so,  to  take  up  arms  against  it  and  lay  it  waste  ; 
and  if  any  one  should  sin  against  the  god,  or  form  any 
scheme  against  the  sanctuary,  to  oppose  him  with  hand 
and  foot,  and  word  and  deed."  This  form  of  oath,  it 
cannot  be  doubted,  was  very  ancient,  and  expresses  with 
sufficient  clearness,  the  original  objects  of  the  confedera- 
tion. But  it  shows  equally  distinctly,  that  the  attainment 
of  these  ends  depended  much  more  on  the  circumstances 
and  condition  of  the  age,  than  on  the  members  of  the 
council  themselves. 

To  him  who  measures  the  value  of  this  assembly,  only 
by  the  influence  wdiich  it  had  in  preventing  wars  among 
the  tribes  that  took  part  in  it,  its  utility  may  seem  very 
doubtful ;  as  history  has  preserved  no  proofs  of  such  in- 
fluence;.    But  even  if  it  had  existed  in  the  earliest  ages, 

'  /Escliines,  1.  c.  p.  2--4. 

"   o;  .''O/u'ioi. 

^  Auroraroi  n:oi>]rf(ti,  to  render  uninhabitable,  by  removing'  its  inhabitants. 

■*  By  means  of  which  they  would  have  become  uninhabitable. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL   CHARACTER.      139 

it  must  have  ceased  of  itself,  when  individual  states  of 
Greece  became  so  powerful,  as  to  assume  a  supremacy 
over  the  rest.  Sparta  and  Athens  referred  the  decision 
of  their  quarrels  to  Delphi,  as  little  as  Prussia  and  Austria 
to  Ratisbon.  But  it  would  be  wrong  to  impute  the 
blame  of  this  to  the  members  of  the  council.  They  had 
no  strong  arm,  except  when  the  god  extended  his  to 
protect  them  ;  or  some  other  power  took  arms  in  their 
behalf.  But  it  is  a  high  degree  of  merit  to  preserve 
principles  in  the  memory  of  the  nations,  even  when  it  is 
impossibh^  to  prevent  their  violation.  And  when  we  ob- 
serve that  several  ideas  relating  to  the  law  of  nations, 
were  indelibly  imprinted  on  the  character  of  the  Greeks  ; 
if  in  the  midst  of  all  their  civil  wars,  they  never  laid 
waste  any  Grecian  city,  even  when  it  was  subdued ; 
ought  we  not  attribute  this  in  some  measure  to  the 
Amphictyonic  assembly  ?  They  had  it  not  in  their  power 
to  preserve  peace  ;  but  they  contributed  to  prevent  the 
Grecians  from  forgetting,  even  in  war,  that  they  still 
were  Grecians. 


140  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES. 

Since  the  Trojan  war,  no  opportunity  had  been  pre- 
sented to  the  Greek  nation,  of  actino;  as  one  people  in 
any  equal  and  common  undertaking.  The  institutions 
which  we  have  just  described,  preserved,  in  a  certain  de- 
gree, the  national  spirit ;  but  they  were  by  no  means 
sufficient  to  produce  political  union  ;  any  tendency  to 
which  was  counteracted  by  the  whole  condition  and  in- 
ternal relations  of  the  nation.  Even  the  colonies  were 
unfavorable  to  it ;  not  only  by  their  distance,  but  still 
more  by  the  independence  which  they  enjoyed.  In  our 
days,  how  soon  do  colonies  which  become  independent, 
grow  estran2:cd  from  the  mother  countries,  after  having 
long  stood  in  the  closest  connection  A\ith  her. 

In  the  century  which  preceded  the  Persian  war,^  the 
Grc^cian  states,  exce])ting  the  Asiatic  cities,  which  lan- 
guished under  the  Persian  yoke,  had  in  many  respects 
made  advances  in  culture.  Freedom  had  been  triumph- 
antly established  in  almost  every  part^  of  the  mother 
country.  The  tyrants  who  had  usurped  power  in  the 
citi(>s.  had  l^een  overthrown  in  ])art  by  the  Spartans,  in 
])art    by   the    citizens   themselves  ;   and    j)opular  govcrn- 

'   Ijctwcrn  tli(^  3-ears  GDO  and  "iOO  before  the  Cliristian  era. 

"  'riicssaly  was  an  (-.\coi)tion.  wliere  the  jrovernmeiit  of  the  Alenada»  still  con- 
tinucfl.  althniu'.h  it  wa-;  tntlerino- ;  fur  which  reason  they,  like  the  PisistratidoB, 
invited  the  Persians  into  Greece.      Herod,  vii.  G. 


THE   PERSIAN   WARS  AND   THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.        141 

ments  had  been  introduced  in  their  stead.  Above  all, 
Athens  had  shaken  off  the  Pisistratidae ;  and  it  came  off 
victorious  from  the  contest  which  it  had  been  obliged  to 
sustain  for  its  liberty.  It  enjoyed  the  full  consciousness 
of  its  youthful  energies ;  "  Athens,"  Herodotus  says,' 
"  which  before  was  great,  when  freed  from  its  usurpers 
became  still  greater."  At  the  expulsion  of  the  Pisistra- 
tidae, Sparta  had,  for  the  first  time,  undertaken  to  exert 
an  influence  beyond  the  Peloponnesus  ;  Corinth  also  had, 
for  eighty-four  years,^  been  in  possession  of  freedom  ;  and 
a  simihir  advantage  had  been  gained  by  several  of  the 
less  powerful  cities,  by  Sicyon '  and  Epidaurus.  The 
islands,  no  less  than  the  continent,  were  in  a  flourishing 
condition  ;  their  independence  stood  at  that  time  in  no 
danofcr  from  the  Persians  or  the  Athenians.  Samos 
never  saw  an  a"e  like  that  of  Polvcrates,  who  trembled 
at  his  own  prosperity  ;  ^  the  small  island  of  Naxus  could 
muster  eight  thousand  heavy-armed  men  ;  ^  the  inconsid- 
erable Siphnus,  very  much  enriched  by  its  gold  mines, 
deemed  it  expedient  to  consult  the  Pythian  oracle  on  the 
duration  of  its  fortunes.'^  The  cities  of  Magna  Graecia, 
Tarentum,  Croton,  and  Sybaris,'  had  attained  the  period 
of  their  splendor  ;  in  Sicily,  Syracuse,  although  disturbed 
by  internal  dissensions,  was  yet  so  powerful,  that  Gelon, 
ils  ruler,  claimed  in  the  Persian  wars  the  chief  command 
of  all  the  Grecian  forces  ;  Marseilles  arose  on  the  shores 
of  Gaul ;    Gyrene  was  established  on  the  coast  of  Lybia. 

»  Herod,  v,  GG.  *  The  year  '^:^^  before  Clirist. 

'  From  about  the  year  600  B.  C.     Epidaurus  at  the  same  time. 
*  Herod,  iii.  72.  '"  Herod,  v.  30. 

8  Pausan.  Phoc.  p.  023. 

7  Herod    vi.  127.     Vet  Sybaris  was  destroyed  just  before  tlie  Persian  wars,  by 
the  Crotoniatse,  in  the  year  510  before  Clirist. 


142  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

But  some  grand  object  of  common  interest  still  was 
wanting;  and  as  the  Spartans  were  already  jealous  of 
Athens,  it  was  the  more  to  be  feared,  that  the  con- 
sciousness of  increasing  strength  would  lead  to  nothing 
but  the  mutual  ruin  of  the  cities  in  civil  wars.  The  Per- 
sian wars  supplied  the  object  which  was  needed.  Al- 
though they  by  no  means  resulted  in  the  establishment 
of  that  general  union  of  the  whole  nation  of  the  Hel- 
lenes, of  which  a  great  man  had  formed  the  idea  without 
believing  in  the  possibility  of  realizing  it;  the  whole 
condition  of  Greece  in  succeedinj]^  ag<^s,  its  foreign  and 
for  the  most  part  its  domestic  relations,  were  all  a  con- 
sequence of  them  ;  and  we  do  not  say  too  much,  when 
we  assert,  that  the  political  character  of  Greece  was 
formed  by  them. 

There  never  was  any  general  union  of  the  Greeks 
against  tlie  Persians  ;  but  the  idea  of  such  a  confedera- 
tion had  been  called  up  ;  and  was,  if  not  entirely,  yet 
in  a  great  measure,  carried  into  effect.  What  is  more 
arduous,  than  in  times  of  great  difficulty,  when  every 
one  fears  for  himself,  and  is  chiefly  concerned  for  self- 
preservation,  to  preserve  among  a  multitude  of  small 
states,  that  public  spirit  and  union,  in  which  all  strength 
consists.  The  Athenians  were  left  almost  alone  to  re- 
pel the  first  invasion  of  Darius  Hystaspes  ;  but  the  glory 
won  at  Marathon  was  not  sufficient  to  awaken  general 
enthusiasm,  when  greater  danger  threatened  from  the 
invasion  of  Xerxes.  All  the  Thessalians,  the  Locrians, 
and  Boeotians,  except  the  cities  of  Thespiae  and  Plateae, 
sent  earth  and  water  to  the  Persian  king  at  the  first  call 
to  submit ;  altliou<i;h  these  tokens  of  subjection  \Aere  at- 
tended  by  the  curses  of  the  rest  of  the  Greeks,  and  the 


THE    PERSIAN   WARS   AND   THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.     143 

VOW  that  a  tithe  of  their  estates  should  be  devoted  to  the 
deity  of  Delphi.^  Yet  of  the  rest  of  the  Greeks,  who 
did  not  favor  Persia,  soQie  were  willing  to  assist  only  on 
condition  of  being  appointed  to  conduct  and  command 
the  whole  ;^  others,  if  their  country  could  be  the  first  to 
be  protected;^  others  sent  a  squadron,  which  was  or- 
dered to  wait  till  it  was  certain  which  side  would  gain 
the  victory  ;  ^  and  others  pretended  they  were  held  back 
by  the  declarations  of  an  oracle/  So  true  is  the  remark 
of  Herodotus,  that,  however  ill  it  might  be  taken  by 
others,  he  was  constrained  to  declare,  that  Greece  was 
indebted  for  its  freedom  to  Athens.^  Athens,  with  The- 
mistocles  for  its  leader,  gave  life  to  the  courage  of  the 
other  states  ;  induced  them  to  lay  aside  their  quarrels ; 
yielded,  where  it  was  duty  to  yield  ;^  and  always  relied 
on  its  own  strength,  while  it  seemed  to  expect  safety 
from  all.  Hope  was  not  disappointed  in  the  result ;  the 
battle  of  Salamis  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  spirit  of  the 


'  Herod,  vii.  132. 

*  Gelon  of  Syracuse  ;  Herod,  vii.  158.  On  this  condition,  he  promised  to 
produce  an  army  of  '2S,000  men,  well  equipped  ;  a  fleet  of  200  triremes,  and  as 
much  grain  as  was  desired.  "Of  truth,"  answered  the  Lacedcemonian  ambas- 
sador, "  Ag-amemnon,  the  descendant  of  Pelops,  would  remonstrate  loudly,  were 
he  to  hear  that  the  cliief  command  had  been  taken  from  the  Spartans,  by  Ge- 
lon  the  Syracusan."  And  when  Gelon  declared,  that  he  would  be  content  with 
the  command  by  sea,  the  Athenian  envoy  quickly  replied,  "King  of  Syracuse, 
Helhis  has  sent  us  to  you,  not  because  it  needs  a  general,  but  because  it  needs 
an  army." 

*  The  Thessalians,  who  had  however  already  surrendered.     Herod,  vii.  172. 

*  The  Corcyrajans  ;   Herod,  vii.  1C6. 

*  The  Cretans;   Herod,  vii.   IG!). 

•"  Herod,  vii.  139.  A  noble  testimony  in  favor  of  Athens,  and  at  the  same 
time,  of  the  free  spirit  and  impartiality  of  Herodotus.  "  I  must  here,"  says  this 
lover  of  truth,  "  express  to  all  Greece,  an  opinion,  which  to  most  men  is  odious; 
but  yet  that,  which  to  me  seems  the  truth,  1  will  not  conceal." 

^  Ae  at  Artemisium  ;  Herod,  viii.  3. 


14i4  CHAPTER   EIGHTH. 

Greeks  ;  and  when  in  the  following  year  ^  the  battle  of 
Plateae  gave  a  decision  to  the  contest,  the  greater  part 
of  Hellas  was  assembled  in  the  field  of  battle.^ 

We  would  give  no  description  of  those  glorious  days, 
but  only  of  the  consequences  which  they  had  for  Greece. 
In  the  actions  of  men,  greatness  is  seldom  or  never  quite 
unmixed  with  meanness  ;  and  he  who  investigates  the 
actions  of  those  times  with  care,  will  find  many  and  vari- 
ous proofs  of  it.  And  yet  in  the  whole  compass  of  his- 
tory, we  can  find  no  series  of  events,  which  deserve  to 
be  compared  with  the  grand  spectacle,  then  exhibited  ; 
and  with  all  the  exaggerations  of  the  orators  and  poets 
the  feeling  of  pride,  with  which  the  Greek  reflected  on 
his  achievements,  was  a  just  one.  A  small  country  had 
withstood  the  attack  of  half  a  continent ;  it  had  not  only 
saved  the  most  costly  possessions,  which  were  endangered, 
its  freedom,  its  independence  ;  it  felt  itself  strong  enough 
to  continue  the  contest,  and  did  not  lay  aside  its  arms, 
till  it  was  permitted  to  prescribe  the  conditions  of  peace. 

The  j)rice  of  that  peace  was  the  emancipation  of  the 
Greek  colonies  in  Asia,  from  Persian  supremacy.  Twenty 
years  before  the  invasion  of  Xerxes,  when  those  cities 
had  attempted  to  throw  off  the  Persian  yoke,  the  Athe- 
nians had  boldly  ventured  to  send  a  squadron  with  troops 
to  reinforce  them  ;  and  that  exj)edition  occasioned  the 
burning  of  Sardis,  which  was  the  capital  of  the  Persian 
dominions  in  Asia  Minor.  "  These  ships,"  says  He- 
rodotus,'' "  were  the  origin  of  the  wars  between  the 
Hellenes  and  the  barbarians."  This  interference  was 
deeply  resented  by  the  Persians  ;  and  their  resentment 

'   In  the  year  479  B.  C.  "^  Herod.  i.s.  2d. 

3  Herod,  v.  97. 


THE   PERSIAN    WARS   AND  THEIR   CONSEQUENCES.     145 

would  have  been  reasonable,  if  thej  had  possessed  the 
right  of  reducing  free  cities  to  a  state  of  dependence. 
Herodotus  has  given  a  copious  narration  of  the  ill  success 
of  the  revolt,  and  of  the  manner,  in  which  Miletus  suf- 
fered for  it.  Even  in  the  subsequent  expeditions  of  the 
Persians  against  Europe,  the  ruling  idea  was  the  desire 
of  taking  revenge  on  Athens ;  and  when  Xerxes  reduced 
that  city  to  ashes,  he  may  have  found  in  it  no  small  de- 
gree of  satisfaction.^  But  when  the  victory  remained  in 
the  hands  of  the  Greeks,  they  continued  with  spirit  a 
war,  which  for  them  was  no  longer  a  dangerous  one  ;  and 
if  the  emancipation  of  their  countrymen  became  from 
that  time  nothing  more  than  an  ostensible  reason,"  it  was 
still  a  proof  of  the  reviving  national  spirit.  When  the 
war  after  fifty-one  years  was  terminated  by  the  first  peace 
with  the  Persians,'  it  was  done  under  the  conditions,  that 
the  Grecian  cities  in  Asia  should  be  free  ;  that  the  troops 
of  the  Persians  should  keep  two  days'  march  distant  from 
them  ;  and  that  their  squadron  should  leave  the  Jilgean 
sea."*  in  a  similar  manner,  after  a  long  and  similar  con- 
test, emancipated  Holland,  in  a  more  recent  age,  pre- 
scribed the  conditions  of  peace  to  the  ruler  of  both  the 
Indies,  and  blockaded  the  mouths  of  his  rivers,  while  it 
preserved  the  ocean  open  to  itself. 

Thus  the  people  of  Hellas,  by  means  of  this  war,  ap- 

^  Herod,  viii.  54. 

^  The  Asiatic  Greeks,  liowever.  during  the  expedition  of  Xerxes,  in  which 
they  were  compelled  to  take  a  part  with  their  ships,  had  entreated  the  Spartans 
and  Athenians  to  free  them.     Herod,  viii.  132. 

■*  In  the  year  •14.)  B.  C.  reckoning  from  the  participation  of  the  Persians  in  the 
insurrection  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  under  Aristagoras  in  the  year  500  B.  C. 

■"  Plutarch  in  Cimon.  Op    iii.  p.  202,  quotes  the  decree  of  the  j)eople,  contain- 
ing the  conditions.    The  formal  treaty  has  in  laier  days  been  questioned,     Dahlt 
man's  Historical  Inquiries,  I.     Yet  war  certainly  ceased. 
19 


146  CHAPTER   EIGHTH. 

peared  among  the  nations  in  the  splendor  of  victory.- 
They  were  now  permitted  to  look  around  in  tranquil 
security  ;  for  who  would  venture  to  attack  them.  The 
eastern  world  obeyed  the  humbled  Persian ;  in  the 
North,  the  kingdom  of  Macedonia  had  not  yet  begun  its 
career  of  conqest;  and  Italy,  still  divided  into  small 
states,  did  not  as  yet  contain  a  victorious  republic.  The 
period  was  therefore  come,  in  which  Greece  could  unfold 
all  its  youthful  vigor  ;  poetry  and  the  fine  arts  put  forth 
their  blossoms ;  the  philosophic  mind  contemplates  itself 
in  tranquillity  ;  and  in  public  spirit,  the  several  cities  vie 
with  each  other  in  generous  competition.  A  nation  does 
not  need  peace  and  tranquillity,  to  become  great ;  but  it 
needs  the  consciousness  that  it  is  possessed  of  strength, 
to  gain  peace  and  tranquillity. 

The  Persian  wars  gave  a  character,  not  only  to  the 
relations  of  Greece  with  foreign  countries,  but  also  to  its 
internal  condition  ;  and  were  of  hardly  less  importance 
to  the  nation  by  means  of  the  latter,  than  of  the  former. 
During  that  contest,  the  idea  of  a  supremacy,  or  v/f«oj'/«j 
as  the  Greeks  termed  it,  entrusted  to  one  state  over  the 
rest,  or  usurped  by  that  state,  became  current  throughout 
Greece. 

Even  before  the  Persian  war,  the  idea  had  been 
faintly  expressed  ;  Sparta  had  always,  as  the  strongest 
of  the  Dorian  tribes,  asserted  a  sort  of  supremacy  over 
the  Peloponnesus  ;  and  had  in  some  measure  deserved 
it,  by  banishing  the  tyrants  from  the  cities  of  that  penin- 
sula.' 

In  the  common  opposition,  made  by  so  many  of  the 

'  Thucyd.  i.  18.  76, 


THE   PERSIAN    WARS   AND  THEIR   CONSEQUENCES.        147 

Grecian  cities,  to  the  attack  of  Xerxes,  the  want  of  a 
general  leader  was  felt ;  but  according  to  the  Grecian 
rules,  this  command  could  not  so  well  be  committed  to 
one  man,  as  to  one  state.  We  have  already  observed, 
that  several  laid  claims  to  it ;  those  of  Syracuse  were  at 
once  rejected ;  and  Athens  was  at  once  prudent  and 
generous  enough  to  yield.  At  that  time,  therefore,  the 
honor  was  nominally  conferred  on  Sparta  ;  it  was  ac- 
tually possessed  by  the  state,  of  which  the  talents 
merited  it ;  and  Sparta  had  no  Themistocles.  But 
Athens  soon  gained  it  nominally  also;  when  the  haugh- 
tiness of  Pausanias  exasperated  the  confederates  ;  and 
Sparta  was  deprived  by  his  fall  of  the  only  man,  who 
in  those  days  could  have  reflected  any  lustre  upon  the 
state. ^ 

In  this  manner,  Athens  was  placed  at  the  head  of  a 
large  part  of  Greece,  confederated  against  Persia  ;  and 
from  this  moment  its  supremacy  begins  to  have  a  practi- 
cal importance  for   Greece.     The  circumstances   under 

'  Of  this  we  have  accurate  accounts  in  Thucydides,  i.  95.  The  Spartans, 
Athenians,  and  many  of  the  confederates,  had  undertaken  a  naval  expedition 
against  Cyprus  and  Byzantium,  470  years  before  Christ.  Offended  with  Pausa- 
nias (who  about  this  time  was  recalled  by  Sparta  herself,)  the  allies,  especially 
the  lonians,  entreated  the  Athenians,  as  being  of  a  kindred  tribe,  to  assume  the 
supreme  command.  Those  who  were  of  the  Peloponnesus,  took  no  part  in  this 
act.  The  Athenians  were  very  willing  to  comply  with  the  request ;  and  the 
confederates  never  received  another  Spartan  general.  From  this  account,  the 
following  points  are  to  be  inferred  :  1.  The  Athenians  obtained  the  same  chief 
command,  which  had  been  exercised  by  the  Spartans,  2.  The  states  which  con- 
ferred that  command  on  Athens,  must  have  been  islands  and  maritime  towns,  as 
the  whole  expedition  was  a  naval  one.  3.  Although  not  all  who  shared  in  it, 
were  lonians,  yet  the  relationship  of  tribes  had  a  great  influence  on  the  choice. 
4.  The  command  conferred  on  the  Athenians,  embraced  therefore  by  no  means 
all  the  (Grecian  cities,  nor  even  all,  which  had  been  united  against  Persia ;  as 
the  Peloponnesians  expressly  withdrew  from  it,  and  the  other  states  of  the  inte- 
rior took  no  part  in  the  matter. 


148  CHAPTER    EIGHTH. 

which  this  chief  command  was  conferred  on  Athens, 
showed  that  nothing  more  was  intended  to  be  given, 
than  the  conduct  of  the  war  that  was  still  to  be  contin- 
ued with  united  efibrts  against  the  Persians.  No  gov- 
ernment of  the  allied  states,  no  interference  in  their 
internal  affairs,  was  intended.  But  how  much  was  in- 
cluded in  the  conduct  of  a  war  against  a  very  powerful 
enemy  from  the  very  nature  of  the  office  ;  and  how  much 
more  for  them  who  knew  how  to  profit  by  it !  As  long 
as  the  war  against  the  Persian  king  was  continued,  could 
it  be  much  less  than  the  guidance  of  all  external  affairs  ? 
For  in  a  period  like  that,  what  other  relations  could  have 
employed  the  practical  politics  of  the  Greeks.  Or  if  any 
others  existed,  were  they  not  at  least  intimately  connected 
with  that  war  ?  And  as  for  the  grand  questions  respect- 
ing the  duration  of  the  war  and  the  conditions  of  peace, 
did  they  not  depend  on  those  who  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  undertaking  ? 

The  first  use  which  Alliens  made  of  this  superior  com- 
mand, was  the  establishment  of  a  general  treasury,  as 
well  as  a  common  fleet,  for  the  carrying  on  of  the  war  ; 
while  it  was  fixed,  which  of  the  allies  should  contribute 
money  and  ships,  and  in  what  proportion.  The  Athen- 
ians, says  Thucydides,^  now  first  established  the  office  of 
treasurers^  of  Greece  ;  who  were  to  collect  the  tribute, 
as  tlio  sums  which  were  raised,  were  denominated, 
(and  names  arc  not  matters  of  indifference  in  politics)  ; 
the  amount  of  which  was  then  fixed  at  four  hundred  and 
sixty  tal(>nts.^  Yet  to  avoid  everything  which  could 
sccui    odious,   the    treasury    w?s    not    directly    fixed    at 

^  Thucyd.  i.  9t".  2  'I^CAj/vorUf/iat. 

2  Full  ^;i50,000. 


THE   PERSIAN   WARS  AND   THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.     149 

Athens,  but  at  Delos,  in  the  temple  of  Apollo ;  where 
the  assemblies  also  were  held.  But  the  most  important 
circumstance  was,  that  the  most  just  of  the  Grecians, 
Aristides,  was  appointed  treasurer  ;  and  the  office  of  as- 
signing to  each  state  its  proportion  of  the  general  contri- 
bution, was  entrusted  to  him.^  No  one  in  those  days 
made  any  complaint ;  and  Aristides  died  as  poor  as  he 
had  lived. 

Two  remarks  are  here  so  naturally  suggested,  that 
they  hardly  need  any  proof ;  the  first  is,  that  Athens,  by 
means  of  this  regulation,  laid  the  foundation  of  its  great- 
ness ;  the  second  is,  that  hardly  any  government,  and 
how  much  less  a  popular  government,  could  long  with- 
stand the  temptation  to  abuse  this  power.  But  a  third 
remark  must  be  made  in  connection  with  the  preceding 
observation;  Athens  gained  the  importance  which  she 
had  for  the  world,  by  means  of  her  supremacy  over  the 
other  states.  It  was  that,  which  made  her  conspicuous 
in  the  history  of  mankind.  The  importance  w  hicli  she 
gained,  was  immediately  of  a  political  nature  ;  but  every 
thing  of  a  vast  and  noble  character,  for  whicli  Athens 
was  distinguished,  was  inseparably  connected  with  her 
political  greatness.  We  ^^ill  disguise  no  one  of  the 
abuses,  of  which  the  consequences  were  finally  most  fatal 
to  Athens  herself;  but  we  cannot  limit  our  view  to  the 
narrow  range  ado{)led  by  those,  who  make  the  abuses 
the  criterion  of  their  judgment. 

The  allies,  by  committing  the  conduct  of  the  war  to 
Athens,  expressly  acknowledged  that  city  to  be  the  first 
in   Greece,  and  this  w^as   silently  acknowledged  by  the 

^  Plutarch.  Aristid.  Op.  ii.  p.  535. 


150  CHAPTER   EIGHTH. 

Other  states  ;  for  Sparta,  which  alone  was  able  to  rival  it 
in  strength,  voluntarily  withdrew  into  the  background.^ 
Athens  had  the  consciousness  of  deserving  this  rank ;  for 
the  freedom  of  Greece  had  had  its  origin  there.  But  it 
was  desirous  of  preserving  its  high  station,  not  by  force 
alone,  but  by  showing  itself  to  be  the  first  in  everything, 
which  according  to  the  views  of  the  Greeks  could  render 
a  city  illustrious.  Its  temples  were  now  to  be  the  most 
splendid  ;  its  works  of  art  the  noblest ;  its  festivals  and 
its  theatres  the  most  beautiful  and  the  most  costly.  But 
for  the  supremacy  of  Athens,  Pericles  never  could  have 
found  there  a  sphere  of  action  worthy  of  himself;  no  Phi- 
dias, no  Polygnotus,  no  Sophocles  could  have  flourished. 
For  the  public  spirit  of  the  Athenian  proceeded  from  the 
consciousness,  that  he  was  the  first  among  the  Grecians ; 
and  nothing  but  that  public  spirit  could  have  encouraged 
and  rewarded  the  genius,  which  was  capable  of  pro- 
ducing works  like  theirs.  Perhaps  their  very  greatness 
prepared  the  fall  of  Athens  ;  but  if  they  were  doomed  to 
suffer  for  it,  the  gratitude  due  to  them  from  mankind,  is 
not  on  thnt  account  diminished. 

The  su|)remacy  of  Athens  was,  as  the  nature  of  the 
whole  coiifederarion  makes  apparent,  immediately  con- 
nected with  its  naval  superiority  ;  for  the  allied  states 
were  all  islands  or  maritime  cities.  Thus  the  expres- 
sions of  supreme  command  (v/f,"oj.«)  and  dominion  of  the 
sea,~  that  is,  the  dominion  of  the  iEgean  and  Ionian  seas 
(for  the  ambition  of  the  Athenians  extended  no  farther), 
came  to  signify  the  same  thing.  This  dominion  of  the 
sea  was  tluucfore,  in  its  origin,  not  only  not  blamable, 

'  Tluicvci.  i.  9.').  2  Qakaaaoxoaria. 


THE  PERSIAN    WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.      151 

but  absolutely  essential  to  the  attainment  of  the  object 
proposed.  The  security  of  the  Greeks  against  the  attacks 
of  the  Persians  depended  on  it ;  and  so  too  did  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  confederacy.  We  cannot  acquit  Athens 
of  the  charge  of  having  afterwards  abused  her  naval  su- 
periority ;  but  he  who  considers  the  nature  of  such  alli- 
ances and  the  difficulty  of  holding  them  together,  will 
concede,  that  in  practice  it  would  be  almost  impossible 
to  avoid  the  appearance  of  abusing  such  a  supremacy ; 
since  the  same  things  which  to  one  party  seem  an  abuse, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  other  are  only  the  necessary  means  to 
secure  the  end. 

When  the  sea  was  made  secure,  and  no  attack  was 
farther  to  be  feared  from  the  Persians,  —  how  could  it  be 
otherwise,  than  that  the  continuance  of  the  war,  and 
consequently  the  contributions  made  for  that  purpose, 
should  be  to  many  of  them  unnecessarily  oppressive  ? 
And  how  could  it  be  avoided,  that  some  should  feel  them- 
selves injured,  or  be  actually  injured  in  the  contributions 
exacted  of  them.  The  consequences  of  all  this  were,  on 
the  one  side  a  refusal  to  pay  the  contributions,  and  on 
the  other,  severity  in  collecting  them  ;  ^  and  as  they  con- 
tinued to  be  refused,  this  was  considered  as  a  revolt,  and 
wars  followed  with  several  of  the  allies  ;  at  first  with  the 
island  Naxos  ;"^  then  with  Thasus,^  with  Samos,^  and 
others.^     But  those  who  had  been   overcome,  were  no 


'  "The  Athenians,"  says  Thucydides,  i.  90,  "exacted  the  contributions  with 
severity  ;  and  were  the  more  oppressive  to  the  allies,  as  these  were  unaccustomed 
to  oppression."  But  if  the  Athenians  had  not  insisted  on  the  payment  of  them 
with  severity,  how  soon  would  the  whole  confederacy  have  fallen  into  ruin. 

«  Thucyd,  i.  98.  ^  Thucyd.  i.  100.  101.  ^  Thucyd.  i.  IIG. 

*  The  difference  of  the  allies,  and  also  the  view  taken  by  the  Athenians  of  their 
supremacy,  and  of  the  oppression,  with  which  they  were  charged,  are  nowhere 


152  CHAPTER   EIGHTH. 

longer  treated  as  allies,  but  as  subjects  ;  and  thus  the  re- 
lation of  Athens  to  the  several  states  was  different ;  for 
a  distinction  was  made  between  the  voluntary  confede- 
rates and  the  subjects.^  The  latter  were  obliged  to  pay 
in  money  an  equivalent  for  the  ships,  which  they  were 
bound  to  furnish  ;  for  Athens  found  it  more  advantageous 
to  have  its  ships  built  in  this  manner,  by  itself.  But 
the  matter  did  not  rest  here.  The  sum  of  the  yearly 
tribute,  fixed  under  Pericles  at  four  hundred  and  sixty 
talents,  was  raised  by  Alcibiades^  to  six  hundred.  When, 
during  the  Peloponnesian  war,  Athens  suffered  from  the 
want  of  money,  the  tribute  was  changed  into  duties  of 
five  per  centum  on  the  value  of  all  imported  articles,  col- 
lected by  the  Athenians  in  the  harbors  of  the  allies.^  But 
the  most  oppressive  of  all  was  perhaps  the  judiciary 
power,  which  Athens  usurped  over  the  allies  ;  not  merely 
in  the  differences,  which  arose  between  the  states,  but 
also  in  private  suits. ^  Individuals  were  obliged  to  go  to 
Athens  to  transact  their  business,  and  in  consequence,  to 
the  great  advantage  of  the  Athenian  householders,  inn- 
kce])ers,  and  the  like,  a  multitude  of  foreigners  were  con- 

nioic  c.lrarly  developed,  than  in  the  speech  of  the  Athenian  ambassador  in  Ca- 
marina.  Thucyd.  vi.  81?,  etc.  "  The  Chians,"  says  lie,  "  and  MethymniEans 
(in  Lesbos)  need  only  furnish  ships.  From  most  of  the  others,  we  exact  the 
tribute  with  severity.  Others,  though  inhabitants  of  islands,  and  easy  to  be 
taken,  are  yet  entirely  voluntary  allies,  on  account  of  the  situation  of  their  islands 
round  the  Peloponnesus." 

'  The  (ti'ii, I  ofioi  and  the  r.Tj^'xooi,  both  of  whom  were  still  bound  to  pay  the 
taxes.  (r.ioii-kfLi).  Manso,  in  his  acute  illustration  of  the  Jlcgcmonia,  Sparta  ]}. 
iii.  15ey!ai>c  12.  13  distinguishes  three  classes ;  those  who  contributed  ships,  but 
no  money  ;  those  who  contributed  nothing  but  money;  and  those  who  were  at 
once  subject  and  tril)utary.  The  nature  of  things  seems  to  require,  that  it  should 
have  been  so;  yet  Thucydides  vi.  09.  makes  no  difference  between  the  two  last. 

"  riutarch.     Op.  ii.  p.  535.  ^  Thucyd.  vii.  28. 

<  See,  upon  this  subject,  Xenoph.  de  Rep.  Athen.  Op.  694.  ed.  Leunclav. 


THE   PERSIAN    WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.     153 

stantlj  in  that  city,  in  order  to  bring  their   affairs   to  an 
issue. 

It  is  therefore  obvious,  that  the  nature  of  the  Athenian 
supremacy  was  clianged.  It  had  been  at  first  a  voluntary 
association,  and  now  it  had  become,  for  far  the  larger 
number  of  the  states  that  shared  in  it,  a  forced  one. 
That  several  of  the  confederates  were  continually  striving 
to  break  free  from  the  alliance,  has  been  shown  by  the 
examples  cited  above  ;  but  it  is  easy  to  perceive,  how 
difficult,  or  rather  how  impossible  it  was,  to  effect  a 
general  union  between  them  against  Athens.  If  they 
had  been  desirous  of  attempting  it,  how  great  were  the 
means  possessed  by  Athens,  of  anticipating  them.  Yet 
there  was  one  moment,  when,  but  for  their  almost  incon- 
ceivable want  of  forethought,  an  attempt  might  have 
justly  been  expected  from  them  ;  and  that  period  was 
the  close  of  the  war  with  Persia.'  The  Greeks  framed 
their  articles  in  the  treaty  of  peace  ;  and  had  nothing 
farther  to  fear  from  the  Persians.  The  whole  object  of 
the  confederacy  was  therefore  at  an  end.  And  yet  we 
do  not  hear  that  any  voices  were  then  raised  against 
Athens.  On  the  other  side,  it  may  with  propri(!ty  be 
asked,  if  justice  did  not  require  of  the  Athenians,  vo- 
kuitarily  to  restore  to  the  allies  their  liberty.  But  this 
question  will  hardly  be  put  by  a  jjractical  statesman.  To 
free  the  allies  from  their  subordination  would  have  been 
to  deprive  Athens  of  its  splendor  ;  to  dry  up  a  chief 
source  of  the  revenues  of  the  rc^ public  ;  perhaps  to  pave 
the  way  to  its  ruin.  What  Athenian  statesman  would 
have  dared  to  make  such  a  proposition  ?     Had   he  made 

'    In  the  year  449  before  Christ;  be  it  that  peace  was  formally  concluiied  or 
not. 

20 


154  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

it,  could  he  have  carried  it  through  ?  Would  he  not 
rather  have  ensured  his  own  downfall  ?  There  are  ex- 
amples where  single  rulers,  weary  of  power,  have  freely 
resigned  it ;  but  a  people  never  yet  voluntarily  gave  up 
authority  over  subject  nations. 

Perhaps  these  remarks  may  contribute  to  rectify  the 
judgments  of  Isocrates,^  in  his  celebrated  accusation  of 
the  dominion  of  the  sea  f  which  he  considered  as  the 
source  of  all  the  misery  of  Athens  and  of  Greece.  The 
views  which  he  entertained  w^ere  certainly  just ;  but  the 
evils  proceeded  from  the  abuses  ;  and  it  were  just  as  easy 
to  show,  that  his  celebrated  Athens,  but  for  that  domi- 
nion, never  would  have  afforded  him  a  subject  for  his 
panegyrics. 

But  how  those  evils  could  result  from  that  abuse  ;  how 
they  prepared  the  downfall  of  Athens,  when  Sparta  ap- 
peared as  the  deliverer  of  Greece  ;  how  the  rule  of  these 
deliverers,  much  worse  than  that  of  the  first  oppressors, 
inflicted  on  Greece  wounds,  which  were  not  only  deep, 
but  incurable  ;  in  general,  the  causes  which  produced 
the  ruin  of  that  country,  remain  for  investigation  in  one 
of  the  later  chapters,  to  which  we  must  make  our  way 
through  some  previous  researches. 

'  We  shall  bo  oblio-pcl  to  recur  frequently  to  Isocrates.  It  is  impossible  to  read 
the  venerable  and  aged  orator,  who  was  filled  with  the  purest  patriotism  which 
a  Grecian  could  feel,  without  respecting  and  loving  him.  But  he  was  a  political 
writer,  without  being  a  practical  statesman  ;  and,  like  St.  Pierre  and  other  excel- 
lent men  of  the  same  class,  he  believed  much  to  be  possible  which  was  not  so. 
The  histoiian  must  consult  him  with  caution.  This  panegyrist  of  antiquity  often 
regrirded  it  in  too  advantageous  a  liglit,  and  is,  be.-iides,  little  concerned  about  the 
accuracy  of  his  historical  delineations. 

^  Isocrat.  Op.  p.  M'Z.  ed.  Steph. 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF   THE  GRECIAN  STATES.  155 


CHAPTER   IX. 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF   THE   GRECIAN   STATES. 

In  the  present  chapter,  we  do  not  undertake  to  give 
an  outline  of  the  several  Grecian  states  ;  but  rather  to 
delineate  the  general  characteristics  of  the  Grecian  forms 
of  government.  Such  a  general  investigation  seems 
the  more  essential,  as,  in  the  obvious  impossibility  of 
analyzing  each  one  of  them,  it  will  throw  light  on  those, 
which  may  hereafter  be  selected  for  particular  descrip- 
tion. 

With  respect  to  a  nation,  in  which  every  thing  that 
could  be  done  in  public,  was  public  ;  where  every  thing 
great  and  glorious  was  especially  the  result  of  this  pub- 
lic life  ;  where  even  private  life  was  identified  with  that 
of  the  public  ;  where  the  individual  did  but  live  with 
and  for  the  state,  this  investigation  must  have  a  much 
higher  degree  of  interest,  than  if  it  related  to  any  other, 
in  which  the  line  of  division  is  distinctly  drawn  between 
public  and  private  life.  He  who  will  judge  of  the  Gre- 
cians, must  be  acquainted  with  the  constitutions  of  their 
states  ;  and  he  must  not  only  consider  the  inanimate 
forms,  as  they  are  taught  us  by  the  learned  compilers 
and  writers  on  what  are  called  Grecian  antiquities ;  but 
regard  them  as  they  were  regarded  by  the  Greeks  them- 
selves. 


156  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

If  the  remark,  which  we  made  above, ^  that  the  Gre- 
cian states,  with  few  exceptions,  were  cities  with  their 
districts,  and  their  constitutions,  therefore,  the  constitu- 
tions of  cities  ;  if  this  remark  needed  to  be  farther  con- 
firmed, it  could  be  done  bj  referring  to  the  fact,  that  the 
Greeks  designate  the  ideas  of  state  and  of  citj,  by  the 
same  word.^  We  must  therefore  always  bear  in  mind 
the  idea  of  city  constitutions,  and  never  forget  that  those 
of  which  we  are  treating,  not  only  had  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  those  of  the  large  empires  of  modern  times, 
but  not  even  with  those  of  the  smaller  principalities.  If 
for  the  sake  of  giving  a  distinct  representation,  we  were 
to  compare  them  with  any  thing  in  modern  history,  we 
could  best  compare  them,  as  the  character  of  the  Italian 
cities  of  the  middle  age  is  hardly  more  familiar  than  that 
of  the  Grecian,  with  the  imperial  towns  in  Germany, 
especially  in  the  days  of  their  prosperity,  previous  to  the 
thirty  years'  war,  before  they  were  limited  in  the  free- 
dom of  their  movements  by  the  vicinity  of  more  power- 
ful monarchical  states  ;  were  it  not  that  the  influence  of 
the  difference  of  religion  created  a  dissimilarity. 

And  yet  this  comparison  may  throw  some  light  on  the 
great  variety,  which  is  observed  in  those  states,  in  spite 
of  the  apparent  uniformity  which  existed  among  the 
Grecian  states  (as  all  were  necessarily  similar  in  some 
resi)ects),  and  which  equally  existed  in  those  German 
cities.     And  the  comparison  will    be  still   more  Justified, 

1  An  attempt  to  collect  and  arrange  tlie  separate  accounts  has  been  made  by 
F.  W.  Tittman.  His  work  on  the  Grecian  Consli'ulinns  proves  Ills  industrj-,  and 
the  paucity  of  tlic  accounts  that  liave  come  down  to  us. 

^  Jli:'/.i;,  cixiUis.  Respecting  the  meaning  of  nu/.ig,  and  the  difference  be- 
tween (o/.i;  and  fcio;,  state  and  nation,  consult  Aristot.  Polit.  Op.  ii,  p.  ^35,  ed. 
Casaub, 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF   THE  GRECIAN   STATES.  157 

if  we  add,  that  the  extent  of  territory  was  as  different 
among  the  Grecian  cities,  and  yet  on  the  whole  was 
nearly  the  same.  There  were  few,  which  possessed  a 
larger  territory,  than  formerly  belonged  to  Ulm  or  Nu- 
remberg ;  but  in  Greece  as  in  Germany,  the  prosperity 
of  the  city  did  not  depend  on  the  extent  of  its  territory. 
Corinth  hardly  possessed  a  larger  district  than  that  of 
Augsburg  ;  and  yet  both  rose  to  an  eminent  degree  of 
opulence  and  culture. 

But  great  as  this  variety  in  the  constitutions  may  have 
been  (and  we  shall  illustrate  this  subject  more  fully  here- 
after), they  all  coincided  in  one  grand  point.  They  all 
were  free  constitutions;  that  is,  they  allowed  of  no  | 
rulers,  whom  the  people  as  a  body,  or  certain  classes  of  | 
the  people,  could  not  call  to  account  ;^  he,  who  usurped 
such  authority,  was,  in  the  language  of  the  Gr(!eks,  a 
tyrant.  In  this  the  idea  is  contained,  that  the  state  shall 
govern  itself;  and  not  be  governed  by  an  individual ; 
and  of  course  a  very  different  view  of  the  state  was  taken 
from  the  modern  European  notion.  The  view  of  the 
Greeks  was  entirely  opposed  to  that  of  those  modern 
politicians,  who  conceive  of  the  state  as  a  mere  machine  ; 
and  of  those  also,  who  would  make  of  it  nothing  but  an 
institution  of  police.  The  Greeks  reo^arded  the  state, 
no  less  than  each  individual,  as  a  moral  person.  IMoral 
powers  have  influence  in  it,  and  decide  its  plans  of  ope- 
ration. Hence  it  becomes  the  great  ol)ject  of  him  who 
would  manage  a  stale,  to  secure  to  reason  the  superiority 
over  passion   and  desire  ;  and   the  attainment  of  virtue 


'  Aristot.  Polit.  Op.  ii.  p.  251,  2S2.     The  magistrates  must  be  responsible  for 
their  administration,  vnev6vroi  as  the  Greeks  expressed  it. 


158  CHAPTER   NINTH. 

and  morality,  is  in  this  sense  an  object  of  the  state,  just 
as  it  should  be  of  the  individual. 

If  with  these  previous  reflections  we  proceed  to  in- 
vestigate the  laws  of  the  Greeks,  they  will  present  them- 
selves to  our  view  in  their  true  light.  The  constitutions 
of  their  cities,  like  those  of  the  moderns,  were  framed  by 
necessity,  and  developed  by  circumstances.  But  as  abuses 
are  much  sooner  felt  in  small  states  and  towns,  than  in 
large  ones,  the  necessity  of  reforms  was  early  felt  in 
many  of  them  ;  and  this  necessity  occasioned  lawgivers 
to  make  their  appearance,  much  before  the  spirit  of 
speculation  had  been  occupied  on  the  subject  of  politics. 
The  objects  therefore  of  those  lawgivers,  were  altogether 
practical  ;  and,  without  the  knowledge  of  any  philo- 
sophical system,  they  endeavored  to  accomplish  them  by 
means  of  reflection  and  experience.  A  commonwealth 
could  never  have  been  conceived  of  by  them,  except  as 
governing  itself;  and  on  this  foundation  they  rested 
their  codes.  It  never  occurred  to  them,  to  look  for  the 
means  of  that  self-government,  to  nothing  but  the  forms 
of  government  ;  and  although  those  forms  were  not  left 
unnoticed  in  their  codes,  yet  they  were  noticed  only  to 
a  certain  deiiree.  No  Grecian  lawgiver  ever  thought  of 
abolishing  entin^ly  the  ancient  usage,  and  becoming,  ac- 
cording to  the  phrase  now  in  vogue,  the  framers  of  a 
new  constitution.  In  giving  laws,  they  only  reformed. 
Lycurgus,  Solon,  and  the  rest,  so  far  from  abolishing 
what  usage  had  established,  endeavored  to  preserve 
everv  thing  which  could  be  preserved  ;  and  only  added, 
in  part,  several  new  institutions,  and  in  part  made  for 
the  (existing  ones  better  regulations.  If  we  possessed 
therelbre  tiie  whole  of  the  laws  of  Solon,  we  should  by 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF  THE   GRECIAN    STATES.  159 

no  means  find  them  to  contain  a  ])erfect  constitution. 
But  to  compensate  for  that,  thej  embraced,  not  only  the 
rights  of  individuals,  but  also  morals,  in  a  much  higher 
degree,  than  the  latter  can  be  embraced  in  the  view  of 
any  modern  lawgiver.  The  organization  of  private  life, 
and  hence  the  education  of  youth, ^  on  which  the  preva- 
lence and  continuance  of  good  morals  depend,  formed 
one  of  their  leading  objects.  They  were  deeply  con- 
vinced, that  that  moral  person,  the  state,  would  other- 
wise be  incapable  of  governing  itself.  To  this  it  must 
be  added,  that  in  these  small  commonwealths,  in  these 
towns  with  their  territories,  many  regulations  could  be 
made  and  executed,  which  could  not  be  put  into  opera- 
tion in  a  powerful  and  widely  extended  nation.  Whether 
these  regulations  were  always  good,  and  always  well 
adapted  to  their  purpose,  is  quite  another  question  ;  it 
is  our  duty  at  present  to  show,  from  what  point  of  view 
those  lawgivers  were  accustomed  to  regard  the  art  of 
regulating  the  state,  and  the  means  of  preserving  and 
directing  it.^ 

Whenever  a  commonwealth  or  city  governs  itself,  it  is 
a  fundamental  idea,  that  the  supreme  power  resides  with 
its  members,  with  the  citizens.  But  it  may  rest  with 
the  citizens  collectivelv,  or  only  with  certain  classes,  or 
perhaps  only  with  certain  families.  Thus  there  naturally 
arose  among  the  Greeks  that  difference,  which  they  desig- 
nated by  the  names  of  Aristocracies  and  Democracies  ; 
and  to  one  of  these  two  classes,  they  referred  all  their 
constitutions.     But  it  is  not  easy  to  draw  a  distinct  line 

'  Aristot.  Polit.  Op.  ii.  p.  301,  33G. 

'    This  taken  together,   forms   what  the   Greeks  called    poluictd    science  — 

TCO/i-triXl'l    iTTiaTT^^Ut], 


160  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

between  the  two.  When  we  are  speaking  of  the  mean- 
ing which  they  bore  in  practical  politics,  we  must  beware 
of  taking  them  in  that  signification,  which  was  afterwards 
given  them  by  the  speculative  politicians,  by  Aristotle^ 
and  others.  In  their  practical  politics,  the  Greeks  no 
doubt  connected  certain  ideas  with  those  denominations  ; 
but  the  ideas  were  not  very  distinctly  defined  ;  and  the 
surest  way  of  erring  would  be,  to  desire  to  define  them 
more  accurately  than  was  done  by  the  Greeks  themselves. 
Tlie  fundamental  idea  of  the  democratic  constitution  was, 
that  all  citizens,  as  such,  should  enjoy  equal  rights  in  the 
administration  of  the  state  ;  and  yet  a  perfect  equality 
existed  in  very  few  of  the  cities.  This  equality  was 
commonly  limited  to  a  participation  in  the  popular  assem- 
blies and  the  courts.^  A  government  did  not  cease  to  be 
a  democracy,  thouiih  the  poorer  class  were  entirely  ex- 
cluded from  all  magistracies,  and  their  votes  of  less  weight 
in  the  popular  assemblies.  On  the  other  hand,  an  aris- 
tocracy always  presupposed  exclusive  privileges  of  indi- 
vidual classes  or  families.  But  these  were  very  different 
and  various.  There  were  hereditary  aristocracies,  where, 
as  ill  S])arta,  the  highest  dignities  continued  in  a  few 
families.  But  this  was  seldom  the  case.  It  was  com- 
monly the  richer  and  more  distinguished  class,  which  ob- 
tained tlu^  sole  administration  of  tiie  state  ;  and  it  was 
eith(  r  ^^(;altl),  or   birth,  or   both   together,  that  decided.^ 

'  li'hero.  in  invpstiifafing-  the  practical  meaning  of  those  words,  we  can  make 
no  use  ol"  the  theoretical  (ii  fiiiition.s  of  Aristotle  in  his  Politics,  we  would  not  by 
aii\-  iinaiis  wive  u[)  the  right  of  citing  him  as  of  aiithorit_y  in  the  history  of  the 
(ireelv  constitutions,  in  so  far  as  he  himself  speaks  of  them.  And  whose  testi- 
nioiiv  on  these  subjects  deserves  more  weight  than  that  of  the  man.  who,  in  a 
wiirk  which  iias  unfortunately  been  lost,  described  and  analyzed  all  the  known 
forms  of  o-overnnient  of  his  ti:iie,  two  hundred  and  fifty-five  in  number. 

^'  jVrislot.  Polit.  in.  1.  ■*  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  5. 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF  THE   GRECIAN   STATES.  161 

But  wealth  consisted  not  so  much  in  money,  as  in  land  ; 
and  it  was  estimated  by  real  estate.  This  wealth  was 
chiefly  exhibited,  in  ancient  times,  in  the  sums  expended 
on  horses.  Those  whose  means  were  sufficient,  consti- 
tuted the  cavalry  of  the  citizens  ;  and  these  formed  the 
richer  part  of  the  soldiery,  which  consisted  only  of  citi- 
zens or  militia.  It  is  therefore  easy  to  understand,  how 
it  was  possible  that  the  circumstance,  whether  the  dis- 
trict of  a  city  possessed  much  pasture  land,  could  have 
had  so  much  influence,  in  practical  politics,  on  the  forma- 
tion of  the  constitution.^  It  was  tlierefore  these  nobles, 
the  Eupatrid^e  and  Optimates,  who,  though  they  did  not 
wholly  exclude  the  people  from  a  share  in  the  legislation, 
endeavored  to  secure  to  themselves  the  magistracies,  and 
the  seats  in  the  courts  of  justice ;  and  wherever  this  was 
the  case,  there  was  what  the  Greeks  termed  an  aris- 
tocracy.^ 

In  cities,  where  wealth  is  for  the  most  part  measured 
by  possessions  in  lands,  it  is  almost  unavoidable  that  not 
only  a  class  of  great  proprietors  should  rise  up;  but  that 
this  inequality  slioukl  constantly  increase  ;  and  landed 
estates  come  finally  into  the  hands  of  a  few  families.^  In 
an  age,  when  there  were  much  fewer  mechanic  profes- 
sions, and  when  those  few  were  carried  on  chiefly  by 
slaves,  the  consequences  of  this  inequality  were  much 


'  Aristotle  cites  examples  of  it  in  Eretria,  Clmlcis,  and  oflicr  cities.  Polit. 
iv.  3. 

2  Oligarchy  was  distino-uished  from  this.  But  though  both  wards  were  in 
use,  no  other  line  can  be  drawn  between  them,  than  the  greater  or  smaller  num- 
ber of  Optimates,  who  had  the  government  in  their  hands.  That  this  remark  is 
a  true  one  appears  from  the  definitions,  to  which  Aristotle,  Polit.  iii.  7,  is  obliged 
to  have  recourse,  in  order  to  distinguish  them. 

^  This  was  the  case  in  Thurii,  Aristot.  Polit.  v.  7. 
21 


162  CHAPTER  NIxNTH. 

more  oppressive  ;  and  it  was  therefore  one  of  the  chief 
objects  of  the  lawgivers,  either  to  prevent  this  evil,  or, 
where  it  already  existed,  to  remedy  it;  as  otherwise  a 
revolution  of  the  state  would  sooner  or  later  have  inevi- 
tably followed.  In  this  manner  we  may  understand  why 
a  new  and  equal  division  of  the  land  among  the  citizens 
was  made  ;'  why  the  acquisition  of  lands  by  purchase  or 
gift  was  forbidden,  and  only  permitted  in  the  way  of  in- 
heritance and  of  marriage  f  why  a  limit  was  fixed  to  the 
amount  of  land,  which  a  single  citizen  could  possess.^ 
But  with  all  these  and  other  similar  precautions,  it  was 
not  possible  to  hinder  entirely  the  evil,  against  which 
they  were  intended  to  guard  ;  and  hence  were  prepared 
the  causes  of  those  numerous  and  violent  commotions,  to 
which  all  the  Grecian  states  were  more  or  less  exposed. 
In  tlie  constitutions  of  cities,  however  they  may  be 
formed,  the  right  of  citizenship  is  the  first  and  most  im-  ^ 
portant.  He  who  does  not  possess  it,  may  perhaps  live 
in  the  city  under  certain  conditions,  and  enjoy  the  pro- 
tection of  its  laws  ;'^  but  he  is  not,  properly  speaking,  a 
member  of  the  state  ;  and  can  enjoy  neither  the  same 
rights,  nor  the  same  respect,  as  the  citizen.  The  regu- 
lations, therefore,  respecting  sharing  in  the  right  of  citi- 
Z(Miship,  were  necessarily  strict ;  but  they  W'ere  very 
different  in  the  several  Grecian  cities.  In  some,  the  full 
privileiies  of  citizensliip  were  secured,  if  both  the  parents 
had   been  citizens  f  in  others,  it  was  necessary  to  trace 

'   As  in  Sparta,  b}-  the  laws  of  Lycurgus. 

'■'  As  in  Sparta,  and  also  among  the  Locrians,  Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  7. 
■^  Aristot.  1.  c. 

'  These  iii-T»iy.i>i,  ivquiliiii,  were  formed  in  almost  all  the   Grecian  cities.     It 
was  common  for  them  to  pay  for  protection,  and  to  bear  other  civil  burdens. 
*  As,  for  example,  at  Athens. 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF   THE  GRECIAN   STATES.  163 

such  a  descent  through  two  or  three  gen  rations  ;^  whilst 
in  others,  no  respect  was  had,  except  to  the  descent  from 
the  mother.^  There  were  some  cities  which  very  rarely 
and  with  difficulty  could  be  induced  to  confer  the  right 
of  citizenship  ;  whilst  in  others  foreigners  were  admitted 
to  it  with  readiness.  In  these  cases,  accidental  circum- 
stances not  unfrequently  decided  ;  and  the  same  city  was 
sometimes  compelled  to  exchange  its  early  and  severe 
principles,  for  milder  ones,  if  the  number  of  the  ancient 
citizens  came  to  be  too  small. ^  In  colonies,  the  milder 
principles  were  of  necessity  followed  ;  since  there  might 
arrive  from  the  mother  country  a  whole  company  of  new 
emigrants,  whom  it  would  either  be  impossible  or  inex- 
pedient to  reject.  And  hence  we  may  explain  what  is  so 
frequently  observable  in  the  colonies,  that  the  wards  of 
the  citizens  were  divided  according  to  th(^ir  arrival  from 
the  different  mother  countries  ;  one  of  the  most  fruitful 
sources  of  internal  commotions,  and  even  of  the  most 
violent  political  revolutions.* 

In  free  cities,  the  constitution  and  the  administration 
are  always  connected  in  an  equally  eminent  degree  with 
the  division  of  the  citizens.  But  here  aijain  we  find  a 
vast  difference  among  the  Greeks.  We  first  notice  those 
states,  which  made  a  distinction  in  the  privileges  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  chief  town,  and  of  the  villages  and 
country.  Tuere  were  some  Grecian  states,  where  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  enjoyed  great  privileges  ;  and  the 

'  As  in  Larissa.  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  2.     So  too  in  Massilia. 

^  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  5. 

*  Tims  at  Athens,  Clisthenes  received  a  large  number  of  foreigners  into  the 
class  of  citizens.     Aristot.  iii.  2. 

"  E.xamplesof  it  at  Sybaris,  Thurium,  Byzantium,  and  other  places,  are  cited 
Aristotle,  Polit.  v.  3. 


164  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

rest  of  their  countrymen  stood  in  a  subordinate  relation 
to  them  ;^  whilst  in  others  there  was  no  distinction  of 
rights  between  the  one  and  the  other.^  The  other  di- 
visions of  the  citizens  were  settled  partly  by  birth,  ac- 
cording to  the  ward  to  which  a  man  happened  to  belong  ;^ 
partly  from  his  place  of  residence,  according  to  the  dis- 
trict in  which  he  resided  ;^  and  partly  from  property  or 
the  census,  according  to  the  class  in  which  he  was  reck- 
oned. Though  not  in  all,  yet  in  many  states,  the  ward, 
and  the  place  of  residence,  were  attached  to  the  name 
of  each  individual  ;  which  was  absolutely  necessary  in 
a  nation,  that  had  no  family  names,  or  where  they  at 
least  were  not  generally  introduced.  There  is  no  need 
of  mentioning  how  important  was  the  difference  in  for- 
tune ;  as  the  proportion  of  the  public  burden  to  be  borne 
by  each  one  was  decided  according  to  his  wealth  ;  and 
the  kind  of  service  to  be  required  in  war,  whether  in  the 
cavalry  or  the  infantry,  and  whether  in  heavy  or  light 
armor,  was  reirulated  bv  the  same  criterion  ;  as  will 
ever  he  the  case  in  countries,  where  there  is  no  other 
armed  force  tiian  the  militia  formed  of  the  citizens. 

On  these  divisions  of  the  citizens,  the  organization  of 
tlieir  assemblies  [ly.y.l.iiaiin)  was  founded.  These  assem- 
blies, \A  hich  wore  a  natural  result  of  city  governments, 
were,  according  to  the  views  of  the  Greeks,  so  essential 
an  institution,  tint  they  ])robably  existed  in  every  Gre- 
cian city,  though  not  always  under  the  same  regulations. 
^  et  the  mann(M"  in   which   they  were    held    in  every  city 

'  Monco    in    Laccnia,  tlie   differpnce  between   Spartans  and   I^aceda?nionians, 
{:r f-nuii y<,i).     So  alsii  in  Crete  and  in  Argos. 
-    .s  at  Athens. 

3  Acr.iiniiiio-  to  the  m'/.cn,  (or  wards.) 
^  According  to  the  <)i[i.toi,  (or  cantons.) 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF   THE  GRECIAN   STATES.  165 

except  Athens  and  Sparta,  is  almost  wholly  unknown  to 
US.  The  nature  of  the  case  required,  that  the  manner  in 
which  they  were  to  be  held,  should  everywhere  be  estab- 
lished by  rule.  It  was  the  custom  to  give  to  but  one 
magistrate,  the  right  of  convoking  and  opening  ihem.^ 
But  we  do  not  know  in  what  manner  the  votes  were 
taken  in  the  several  cities,  whether  merely  by  polls,  or 
by  the  wards  and  other  divisions  of  the  people.  And  in 
this  too,  there  was  a  great  difference,  whether  all  citizens 
had  the  right  of  voting,  or  whether  a  certain  census  was 
first  requisite.^  In  most  of  the  cities,  regular  assemblies 
on  fixed  days,  and  extraordinary  meetings  also,  aj)pear 
to  have  been  held.^  To  attend  was  regarded  as  the 
duty  of  every  citizen  ;  and  as  the  better  part  were  apt 
to  remain  away,  especially  in  stormy  times,  absence  was 
often  made  a  punishable  offence.'*  It  may  easily  be  sup- 
posed, that  the  decisions  were  expressed  in  an  established 
form,  written  down  and  preserved,  and  sometimes  en- 
graved on  tables.  But  although  the  forms  were  fixed, 
the  subjects  which  might  come  before  the  assembly  were 
by  no  means  so  clearly  defined.  The  principle  which 
was  acted  upon,  was,  that  subjects  which  were  impor- 
tant for  the  community,  were  to  be  brought  before  it. 
But  how  uncertain  is  the  very  idea  of  what  is,  or  is  not 
important.     How  much,  too,  depends  on  the  form  which 


'  In  the  heroic  awe,  it  was  the  privilesre  of  tlie  kinirs  to  convoke  the  assembly. 
See  above,  in  the  fourth  chapter. 

^  Th;it  a  great  variety  prevailed  in  this  respect,  is  clear  from  Aristot.  I^olit. 
iv.  13. 

^  This  was  the  cise  in  Athens  and  Sparta. 

*  This  is  the  case,  says  Aristotle,  Polit.  iv.  13,  in  the  oligarchic,  or  aristocrat- 
ical  cities;  while  on  the  contrary,  in  the  democr.atic,  the  poor  were  well  paid  for 
appearing  in  the  assemblies. 


,166  CHAPTER   NINTH. 

the  constitution  has  taken  at  a  certain  period  ;  whether 
the  power  of  the  senate,  or  of  certain  magistrates  pre- 
ponderates. We  find  even  in  the  history  of  Rome,  that 
questions  of  the  utmost  interest  to  the  people,  questions 
of  war  and  peace,  were  sometimes  submitted  to  the  peo- 
ple, and  sometimes  not.  No  less  considerable  difference 
prevailed  in  the  Grecian  cities.  Yet  writers  are  accus- 
tomed to  comprehend  the  subjects  belonging  to  the  com- 
mon assemblies  in  three  grand  classes.^  The  first  em- 
braces legislation  ;  for  what  the  Greeks  called  a  law 
()6iin;),  was  alwajs  a  decree  passed,  or  confirmed  by  the 
commons;  although  it  is  difticult,  we  should  rather  say 
impossible,  to  define  with  accuracy  the  extent  of  this 
legislation.  The  second  embraces  the  choice  of  magis- 
trates. This  rigiit,  although  not  all  magistrates  were 
a])j)ointed  by  election,  was  regarded,  and  Justly  regarded, 
as  one  of  the  most  important  privileges.  For  the  power 
of  the  commons  is  preserved  by  nothing  more  effectually, 
than  l)y  making  it  necessary  for  those  who  would  obtain 
a  place,  to  a])i)ly  for  it  to  them.  The  third  class  was 
formed  by  the  ])opular  courts  of  justice,  which,  as  we 
shall  hereafter  take  occasion  to  show,  were  of  the  high- 
est importance  as  a  support  of  the  democracy. 

The  consequences  which  the  discussion  and  the  deci- 
sion of  the  most  important  concerns  in  the  assemblies  of 
the  A\  hole  commons  must  inevitably  have  had,  are  so 
naliucilly  suggested,  that  they  hardly  need  to  be  illus- 
trated at  large.  ITow  could  it  have  escaped  those  law- 
giv(Ms.  tliat  to  entrust  this  unlimited  power  to  the  com- 
mons, was   not   much  less  than  to  pave  the  way  for  the 

'  The  chief  passage  on  this  subject  Is  in  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  14. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE   GRECIAN   STATES.  167 

rule  of  the  populace,  if  we  include  under  that  name  the 
mass  of  indigent  citizens. 

The  most  natural  means  of  guarding  against  this  evil, 
would  without  douht  have  been  the  choice  of  persons, 
possessed  of  plenary  powers,  to  represent  the  citizens. 
But  it  is  obvious,  that  the  system  of  representation  has 
the  least  opportunity  of  coming  to  perfection  in  city 
governments.  It  is  the  fruit  of  the  enlarged  extent  of 
states  ;  where  it  is  impossible  for  all  to  meet  in  the  as- 
semblies. But  in  cities  with  a  narrow  territory,  what 
could  lead  to  such  a  form  ;  since  neither  distance  nor 
numbers  made  it  difficult  for  the  citizens  to  appear  per- 
sonally in  the  assemblies.  It  is  true,  that  the  alliances 
of  several  cities,  as  of  the  Boeotian  or  the  Achaean,  led 
to  the  idea  of  sending  deputies  to  the  assemblies  ;  but  in 
those  meetings,  the  internal  affairs  of  the  confederates 
were  never  discussed  ;  they  were  reserved  for  the  con- 
sideration of  each  city  ;  and  the  deliberations  of  the 
whole  body,  related  only  to  general  affairs  with  respect 
to  foreign  relations.  But  a  true  system  of  rej)resentation 
can  never  be  formed  in  that  manner  ;  the  true  sphere  of 
action  of  a  legislative  body,  is  to  be  found  in  the  internal 
affairs  of  the  nation. 

It  was  therefore  necessary  to  think  of  other  means  of 
meeting  the  danger  apprehended  from  the  rule  of  the 
populace  ;  and  those  means  were  various.  Aristotle  ex- 
pressly remarks,'   that  there  were  cities,  in  which   no 


'  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  1.  A  similar  regulation  existed  in  several  German  impe- 
rial towns;  as,  for  example,  in  Bremen,  where  the  most  distinguished  citizens 
were  invited  by  the  senate  to  attend  the  convention  of  citizens;  and  of  course 
no  uninvited  person  made  his  appearance.  It  is  to  be  regretted,  that  Aristotle 
has  cited  no  Grecian  city  as  an  example. 


168  CHAPTER   NINTH. 

general  assemblies  of  the  citizens  were  held  ;  and  only 
such  citizens  appeared,  as  had  been  expressly  convoked 
or  inviled.  These  obviously  formed  a  class  of  aristocratic 
governments.  But  even  in  the  democracies,  means  ^ 
were  taken,  partly  to  have  the  important  business  trans- 
acted in  smaller  divisions,  before  the  commons  came  to 
vote  upon  it ;  partly  to  limit  the  subjects,  which  were 
to  be  brought  before  them  ;  partly  to  reserve  the  revision, 
if  not  of  all,  yet  of  some  of  the  decrees,  to  another 
peculiar  board  ;  and  partly,  and  most  frequently,  to  name 
another  deliberate  assembly,  whose  duty  it  was  to  con- 
sider every  thing  which  was  to  come  before  the  commons, 
and  so  f^ir  to  prepare  the  business,  that  nothing  remained 
for  the  commons,  but  to  accept  or  reject  the  measures 
proposed. 

This  assembly  was  called  by  the  Greeks,  a  council 
(.^oiv.*;).  Wo  are  acquainted  with  its  internal  regulations 
onlv  at  Athens  ;  but  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt,  that  in 
several  Grecian  states,  a  similar  assembly  existed  under 
the  siinic  name.~  If  we  may  draw  inferences  respecting 
its  nature  in  other  states  from  what  it  was  at  Athens,  it 
consisted  of  a  numerous  committee  of  the  citizens  annu- 
ally chosen  ;  its  members,  taken  after  a  fixed  rule  from 
each  of  the  cor])orations,  were  chosen  by  lot  ;  but  they 
could  not  become  actual  members  without  a  previous 
examination.  For  in  no  case  was  it  of  so  much  im- 
])oitancc  as  here,  to  effect  the  exclusion  of  all  but  honest 
men  :  who.  being  themselves  interested  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  state  and  its  constitution,  misht  decide  on  the 


'   See  in  proof  what  follows,  Aristot.  Pollt.  iv.  14,  Op.  ii.  p.  280. 
-  As   at  Argos   and    Alantinea.   Tiiucyd.    v.  47.      So  too  in  Chios.  Thucyd. 
vili.  II. 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF  THE   GRECIAN    STATES.  169 

business  presented  to  them,  with  prudence  and  modera- 
tion. In  Athens  at  least,  the  greatest  pains  were  taken 
with  the  internal  organization  of  this  body ;  so  that  it 
seems  to  us,  as  will  appear  from  the  investigations  re- 
specting this  state,  to  have  been  almost  too  artificial. 
Regulations,  similar  in  kind,  though  not  exactly  the  same, 
were  probably  established  in  the  other  cities,  where  simi- 
lar wants  and  circumstances  prevailed.  It  is  easy  to 
perceive,  that  the  preservation  of  the  internal  liberties  of 
such  a  body  against  the  encroachments  of  parties  and 
too  powerful  individuals,  made  such  regulations  essential. 
It  was  probably  to  promote  this  end,  that  the  appoint- 
ments to  the  council  were  made  only  for  the  year.^  It 
prevented  the  committee  from  ])ecoming  a  faction,  and 
thus  assuming  the  whole  administration  of  the  state. 
But  beside  this,  another  great  advantage  was  gained  ;  for 
in  this  manner,  by  far  the  larger  number  of  distinguished 
and  upright  citizens  became  acquainted  with  the  affairs 
and  the  government  of  the  state. 

In  otlier  cities,  instead  of  this  annual  council,  there 
was  a  senate  (;fooLaa<),  which  had  no  periodical  change 
of  its  members,  but  formed  a  permanent  board.  Its  very 
name  expresses  that  it  was  composed  of  the  elders ;  and 
what  was  more  natural,  than  to  look  for  good  counsel  to 
the  experience  of  maturity  ?  The  rule  respecting  age 
may  have  been  very  different  in  the  several  cities,  and 
perhaps  in  many  no  rule  on  the  subject  existed.  But  in 
others,  it  was  enforced  with  rigorous  accuracy.  The 
immediate  object  was  to  have  in  it  a  board  of  counsel  ; 


'  This  explains   why  Aristotb,  Polit.  iv,   15,  calls   the    Soulrj  an   institution 
favorable  to  the  form  of  government. 

22 


170  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

but  its  sphere  of  action  was  by  no  means  so  limited.  In 
Sparta,  the  assembly  of  elders  had  its  place  by  the  side 
of  the  kings.  The  senate  of  Corinth  is  mentioned  under 
the  same  name  ;^  that  of  Massilia^  under  a  different  one, 
but  its  members  held  their  places  for  life  ;  and  in  how 
many  other  cities  may  there  have  been  a  council  of 
elders,  of  which  history  makes  no  mention,  Just  as  it  is 
silent  respecting  the  internal  regulations  in  those  just 
enumerated.^  Even  in  cities  which  usually  had  no  such 
senate,  an  extraordinary  one  was  sometimes  appointed 
in  extraordinary  cases,  where  good  advice  was  needed. 
This  took  place  in  Athens  after  the  great  overthrow  in 
Sicily.^ 

Besides  an  assembly  of  citizens,  or  town  meeting,  and 
a  senate,  a  Grecian  city  had  its  magistrates.  Even  the 
ancient  politicians  were  perplexed  to  express  with  accu- 
racy, the  idea  of  magistrates,^  For  not  all  to  whom 
public  business  was  committed  by  the  citizens,  could  be 
called  magistrates ;  for  otherwise  the  ambassadors  and 
priests  would  have  belonged  to  that  class.  In  modern 
constitutions,  it   is  not  seldom   difficult  to  decide,  who 


I  PIntarch.  Op.  ii.  p.  177. 

^  Strabo,  iii.  p    1-24. 

■'  Tliere  was  perliaps  no  one  Grecian  city,  in  which  such  a  coiinci]  did  not 
exif^t,  for  the  nature  of  things  made  it  ahnost  indispensable.  They  were  most 
common] V  called  Sur?.y  and  ytooraut,  and  these  words  ma^i  often  have  been  con- 
foundi^d.  For  although  the  iot'/.i,  in  Athens  was  a  body  chosen  from  the  citizens 
but  for  a  year,  and  the  yfooi  ola  of  Sparta  was  a  permanent  council,  we  cannot 
safely  infer,  that  the  terms,  when  used,  always  implied  such  a  difference.  In 
Crete,  e.  ff.  the  council  of  elders  was  called  /iovkr,,  according  to  Aristot.  Polit.  ii. 
]0,  thouirh  in  its  orfranization  it  resembled  the  yiQoi.riia  of  Sparta. 

••  Thucyd.  viii.  i. 

'^  S>-e.  on  this  suhjoct,  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  15.  The  practical  politicians,  no  less 
than  the  theorists,  were  perplexed  in  defining  the  word.  An  important  passage 
may  be  found  in  .Eschin.  in  Ctesiphont.  iii.  p.  397,  &c.,  Reisk. 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF  THE   GRECIAN   STATES.  171 

ought  to  be  reckoned  in  the  number  of  magistrates,  as 
will  be  apparent  from  calling  to  mind  ihe  inferior  officers. 
But  no  important  misunderstanding  can  arise,  if  we  are 
careful  to  aflix  to  the  word  the  double  idea  of  possessing 
a  part  of  the  executive  ])ower;  and  of  gaining,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  importance  of  the  business  entrusted  to 
them,  a  higher  degree  of  consideration,  than  belonged  to 
the  common  citizen. 

In  the  republican  constitutions  of  the  Greeks  a  second 
idea  was  attached  to  that  of  a  magistracy  ;  it  was  neces- 
sary to  call  every  magistrate  to  account  respecting  the 
affairs  of  his  office.^  He  who  went  beyond  this  rule, 
ceased  to  be  a  magistrate  and  became  a  tyrant.  The 
magistrate  was  therefore  compelled  to  recognise  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  people.  This  certainly  implied,  that  an 
account  was  to  be  given  to  the  commons  ;  but  as  in  such 
constitutions  not  every  thing  was  systematically  estab- 
lished, there  were  some  states,  in  which  separate  boards, 
as  that  of  the  Ephori  in  Sparta,  usurped  the  right  of  call- 
ing the  magistrates  to  account.^ 

In  the  inquiry  respecting  magistrates,  says  xAristotle,^ 
several  questions  are  to  be  considered  :  How  many  ma- 
gistrates there  are,  and  how  great  is  their  authority  ? 
How  long  they  continue  in  office,  and  whether  they 
ought  to  continue  long  ?  Farther,  —  Who  ought  to  be 
appointed  ?  and  by  whom  ?  and  how  ?  These  are  ques- 
tions, which  of  themselves  show,  that  republican  states 
are  had  in  view  ;  and  which   lead  us   to   anticipate   that 

'  They  were  of  necessity  i.Tij'ihjioi.     Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  12. 
*  There  were  magistrates  appointed   on  purpose,  called  ft'taio/.o/iV/Tai.     Aris- 
tot. Polit.  vi.  8. 

^  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  15. 


172  CHAPTER   NINTH. 

great  variety,  which  prevailed  on  these  points  in  the 
Grecian  constitutions.  We  desire  to  treat  first  of  the 
last  questions. 

According  to  the  whole  spirit  of  the  Grecian  constitu- 
tions, it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  their  leading  principle 
was,  that  all  magistrates  must  be  appointed  by  the  peo- 
ple. The  right  of  choosing  the  magistrates,  was  always 
regarded,  and  justly  regarded,  as  an  important  part  of  the 
freedom  of  a  citizen.^  But  although  this  principle  was 
predominant,  it  still  had  its  exceptions.  There  were 
states,  in  which  the  first  offices  were  hereditary  in  certain 
families.^  But  as  we  have  already  taken  occasion  to  ob- 
serve, this  was  a  rare  case  ;  and  where  one  magistracy 
was  hereditary,  all  the  rest  were  elective  ;  at  Sparta, 
though  the  royal  dignity  was  hereditary,  the  E])hori  were 
chosen.  But  beside  the  appointment  by  election,  the 
custom  very  commonly  prevail(>d  of  appointing  by  lot. 
And  our  astonishment  is  very  justly  excited  bv  this  me- 
thod, which  not  unfrequently  commits  to  chance,  the 
appointnuMit  to  tlie  first  and  most  weighty  employments 
in  the  state.  But  even  in  several  of  the  German  impe- 
rial towns,  [he  lot  had  an  important  share  in  the  appoint- 
nuMit  to  ofii((\s.  It  is  uninfiiienced  by  favor,  birth,  and 
W(\i!t!i.  And  therefore  the  nonnnation  of  magistrates  by 
lot,  was  considered  by  the  Grecian  {;oliticians  as  the 
surest  charact(M'istic  of  a  democracy,^  But  aa  here  the 
appoiiiTment  was  left  to  be  decided  l)y  that  method,  the 
decision    \\as   not   always   made   solely    by  it.     lie    on 

'    Anst  .t.   r""'!'!!.  ii.  1'2.       .l.'^Af  -/.-n  thi'ihv^  t<jV  li:;  L-.oy'u;  aiintoCui  ym  ti  it'iin, 
z/'jwj,-  (.,1    M   A/'i/'i.-.  A.;r/M.-  Id   f((,  y.at  ritj'/.Uuu;. 
-  \ii  tlie  ki !'<„'■?  in  S])arta, 
'■'■  Ariitot.  Po:it,  iv,  IT). 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.  173 

whom  the  lot  fell,  could  still  be  subjected  to  a  severe 
examination,  and  very  frequently  was  so.  And  where 
seme  places  were  filled  in  this  way,  it  was  by  no  means 
pursued  in  the  appointment  to  all. 

But  in  the  election  also,  the  greatest  differences  pre- 
vailed ;  since  sometimes  all  classes,  and  sometimes  only 
particular  ones  took  part  in  them.^  To  admit  all  citizens 
to  vote,  is  one  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  a  democracy  ; 
and  we  know  this  was  done  not  only  in  Athens,  but  in 
many  other  cities.  But  when  the  aristocratic  and  demo- 
cratic party  had  once  become  distinct,  endeavors  were 
almost  inevitably  made  to  exclude  the  mass  of  the  people 
from  any  share  in  the  elections.  For  the  aristocrat  found 
nothing  more  humiliating,  than  to  a])proach  the  common 
citizen  as  a  suppliant,  before  he  could  arrive  at  places  of 
honor.  Where  the  first  step  succeeded,  the  second  soon 
followed  :  and  the  majjistrates  themselves  supplied  any 
vacant  places  in  their  board.  This,  says  Aristotle,^  is  the 
peculiar  mark  of  oliii;archy,  and  leads  almost  always  to 
revolutions  in  the  states. 

And  who  was  eligible  to  office?  This  question  is  still 
more  important,  than  that  respecting  the  electors  ;  and 
an  equally  great  difference  prevailed  on  this  point  in  the 
various  states.  The  maxim,  that  men,  to  whom  the  con- 
trol of  the  public  affairs  should  be  committed,  must  not 
only  possess  sufficient  capacity,  but  must  also  be  interest- 
ed in  the  suj)port  of  existing  forms,  is  so  obvious,  that  the 
principle  of  exchiding  the  lower  orders  of  the  })eople  from 
participating  in  the  magistracies,  could  hardly  seem 
otherwise  than  judicious  and  necessary.^     But  when  it 

'  Aristotle,  1.  c.  classifies  these  varieties.  -  Aristot.  1.  c. 

^  That  not  only  Solon,  but  other  lawgivers  had  adopted  this  regulation,  is  re- 
marked by  Aristotle,  Polit.  iii.  11. 


174  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

was  adopted,  it  could  seldom  be  preserved.  When  a 
state  became  flourishing  and  powerful,  the  people  felt  it- 
self to  be  of  more  importance ;'  and  it  was  not  always 
fl.ittery  of  the  populace,  which  in  such  times  induced  its 
leaders  to  abolish  those  restrictive  laws,  but  a  conviction 
of  the  impossibility  of  maintaining  them.  In  an  individual 
case,  such  an  unlimited  freedom  of  choice  can  become 
very  injurious  ;  but  it  is,  on  the  whole,  much  less  so, 
than  it  appears  to  be  ;  and  the  restrictions  are  apt  to  be- 
come pernicious,  if  it  be  birth,  which  forms  the  limiting 
principle,  if  a  man  must  belong  to  certain  families  in 
order  to  gain  an  office,  it  would  be  made  directly  impos- 
sible for  men  of  talents  to  obtain  them  ;  and  this  has 
often  ]  roduced  the  most  violent  revolutions.  If  fortune 
be  made  the  qualification,^  this  is  in  itself  no  criterion  of 
desert.  If  it  be  age,  want  of  energy  is  too  often  con- 
nected with  riper  experience. 

Ill  most  of  the  Grecian  cities,  there  certainly  existed  a 
rcnsoii,  why  regard  should  be  had  to  wealth;  because 
that  consisted  almost  always  in  real  estate.  But  where 
the  poor  were  excluded  by  no  restrictive  laws,  they  were 
obliged  of  their  own  accord,  to  retire  from  most  of  the 
magistracies.  These  offices  were  not  lucrative  ;  on  the 
contrary,  considerable  expenses  were  often  connected 
with  them."'  There  were  no  fixed  salaries,  as  in  our 
stales  ;  and  the  prospect,  which  in  Rome  in  a  later  period 
was  so  inviting  to  the  magistrates,  the  administration  of 
a  ])iovince,  did  not  exist  in  Greece.  It  was  therefore 
impossible    for  the  poorer  class   to   press    forward  with 


'   Si'c.  on  this  snlijcot  nlso,  Aristot.   I.e. 

-  Maiiv  places  in  .irislotle  show,  that  this  was  tlie  case  in  a  large  number  of 
cities;  nnii  under  the  most  various  reo-n!ations  ;  e.  g.  iv.  11. 

^  As  tor  banquets,  public  buildings,  festivals.  Sac.     Aristot.  Polit.  vi.  8. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE   GRECIAN   STATES.  175 

eagerness  to  these  offices  ;  in  many  cities  there  even  ex- 
isted a  necessity  of  imposing  a  punishment,  if  the  person 
elected  would  not  accept  the  office  committed  to  him.^ 
It  was  far  more  the  honor  and  the  glory,  than  the  gain, 
which  gave  a  value  to  the  magistracies.  But  the  honor 
of  being  the  first,  or  one  of  the  first,  among  his  fellow- 
citizens,  is  for  many  a  more  powerful  excitement,  than 
that  which  can  be  derived  from  emolument. 

In  small  republics,  no  other  fear  needs  be  entertained 
respecting  the  offices  of  magistrates,  than  lest  certain 
families  should  gain  the  exclusive  possession  of  them. 
This  is  what  the  Greeks  meant  by  an  oligarchy,^  when 
the  number  of  such  families  remained  small.  These 
were  with  justice  regarded  as  a  corruption  of  the  consti- 
tutions. There  may  have  been  exceptions,  and  we  find 
in  history  examples,  both  within  and  without  Greece, 
where  such  states  have  been  administered  with  modera- 
tion and  wisdom.  But  more  frequently  experience  has 
shown  the  contrary  result.  The  precautions  taken 
against  this  evil  by  the  Grecians,  were  the  same  with 
those  adopted  in  many  of  the  German  imperial  towns ; 
persons  connected  by  blood,  as  father  and  son,  or  several 
brothers,  could  not  at  the  same  time  be  magistrates.'' 
Connections  by  marriage  arc  nowhere  said  to  have  ex- 
cluded from  office  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  be  easier 
to  find  examples  of  brothers-in-law  filling  magistracies  at 
the  same  time.'* 

Most  of  the  magistrates  were  chosen  annually  ;  many 

1  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  9. 

^  Not  only   Aristot.  iv.  G,  but  many  passages  in  Thucydides  ;  as,  e.  g.  viii.  82. 

^  It  was  so  in  Massilia  and  in  Cnidus.     Aristot.  Folit.  v.  6. 

■•  As  Agesilaus  and  Pisander  in  Sparta. 


176  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

for  but  half  a  year.^  This  frequent  renewal  had  its  ad- 
vantages, and  also  its  evils.  It  is  the  strongest  pillar  of 
the  rule  of  the  people  ;  which  is  by  nothing  so  much 
confirmed,  as  by  the  frequent  exercise  of  the  right  of 
election.  This  was  the  point  of  view  taken  by  the  poli- 
ticians of  Greece,  when  they  considered  the  authority  of 
the  people  to  reside  in  the  elections.^  That  these  fre- 
quent elections  did  not  tend  to  preserve  internal  tranquil- 
lity, is  easy  to  be  perceived.  But  on  the  other  side,  the 
philosopher  of  Stagira  has  not  failed  to  remark,  that  the 
permanent  possession  of  magistracies  might  have  led  to 
discontent.^ 

An  enumeration  of  the  different  magistracies  usual 
among  the  Greeks,  is  not  required  by  our  purpose  ; 
neither  would  it  be  possible,  as  our  acquaintance  with 
the  several  constitutions  of  the  cities  is  incredibly  limited.^ 
The  little  that  we  know  of  the  regulations  in  the  indi- 
vidual states,  especially  in  Athens,  proves  that  the  num- 
bei'  of  such  offices  was  very  considerable  ;  and  the  same 
aj)j]ears  from  the  classification,  which  Aristotle  has  at- 
tempted to  make  of  tliem.^  Their  duties  are  commonly 
indicated  by  their  names  ;  bnt  these  again  were  entirely 
different  in  the  various  cities  ;  even  in  cases  where  the 
duties  were  the  same.  The  Cosmi  were  in  Crete,  what 
the  E])hori  were  in  Sparta.  Most  of  the  cities  must 
have  had  a  magistrate  like  the  Archons  in  Athens  ;  and 
yet  it  A\ould  not  ])e  easy  to  find  the  name  in  anv  other. 
The  numerous  encroachments  made  bv  the  lawirivers  on 

'  Ari-tni.  Polit    iv.  15. 

-  Tliucyd.   viii.  --!>. 

^  Aiist'it    Polit.  ii,  ."). 

'  Sco  'I'ittiiinn  on  tlic  Grecian  Constitutions. 

■'  See  the  instructive  passage,  Polit.  iv.  15. 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF   THE  GRECIAN   STATES.  177 

domestic  life,  contributed  much  to  multiply  the  offices  of 
magistrates  and  extend  their  sphere  of  action.  The 
Grecians  had  formed  no  idea  of  a  police,  as  a  general 
branch  of  the  administration  of  the  state  ;  but  they  were 
acquainted  with  several  of  its  branches ;  and  although 
they  had  no  general  board  of  police,  the  circumstances 
just  mentioned  led  them  to  establish  several  particular 
branches ;  and  even  some,  which  are  not  usual  in  our 
times.  The  superintendence  of  women,  the  superin- 
tendence of  children,  was  in  many  cities  entrusted  to 
particular  magistrates  ;'  and  as  the  Areopagus  of  Athens 
had  in  general  the  care  of  morals,  there  were  undoubt- 
edly similar  tribunals  in  other  Grecian  cities. 

Thus  then  it  appears,  that  amidst  an  almost  infinite 
variety  of  forms,  assemblies  of  the  citizens,  senates,  and 
magistracies,  are  the  institutions  which  belonged  to  every 
Grecian  commonwealth.  The  preservation  of  freedom 
and  equality  among  the  commons,^  formed  their  chief 
object.  It  was  not  considered  unjust  to  take  from  any 
one,  of  Vv'hom  it  was  only  feared  that  he  might  become 
dangerous  to  this  freedom,  the  power  of  doing  injury,  by 
a  temporary  banishment  from  the  city;  and  this  took 
place  at  Athens  and  Argos^  by  ostracism,  and  by  petalism 
in  Syracuse.  Nothing  can  be  more  jealous,  than  the  love 
of  liberty  ;  and  unfortunately  for  mankind,  experience 
shows  but  too  clearly,  that  it  has  reason  to  be  so. 

Nevertheless,  neitlier  these,  nor  other  precautions 
were  able  to  save  the  Grecian  cities  from  the  usurpations 
of  tyrants,  as   they  were   termed.     Few    cities,  in  the 

'  The  Yvraixorviioi  and  the  /ratiJovc/ioi.     Aristot.  I.  c. 
*  The  avroroula  and  laoto^iia. 
^  Aristot.  Polit.  v.  3. 

23 


178  CHAPTER   NINTH. 

mother  country,  and  in  the  colonies,  escaped  this  fate. 
The  Grecians  connected  with  this  word  the  idea  of  an 
illegitimate,  but  not  necessarily  of  a  cruel  government. 
It  was  illegitimate,  because  it  was  not  conferred  by  the 
commons  ;  but  usurped  without,  or  even  against  their 
will.  A  demagogue,  however  great  his  power  may  have 
been,  was  never,  as  such,  denominated  a  tyrant ;  but  he 
received  the  name,  if  he  set  himself  above  the  people ; 
that  is,  if  he  refused  to  lay  before  the  people  the  account 
which  was  due  to  them.^  The  usual  support  of  such  an 
authority,  is  an  armed  power,  composed  of  foreigners 
and  hirelings ;  which  was  therefore  always  regarded  as 
the  sure  mark  of  a  tyrant.^  Such  a  government  by  no 
means  necessarily  implied,  that  the  existing  regulations 
and  law^s  would  be  entirely  set  aside.  They  could  con- 
tinue ;  even  an  usurper  needs  an  administration  ;  only 
he  raises  himself  above  the  laws.  The  natural  aim  of 
these  tyrants  usually  was,  to  make  their  power  hereditary 
in  their  families.  But  though  this  happened  in  many 
cities,  the  supreme  power  was  seldom  retained  for  along 
time  by  the  same  family.  It  continued  longest,  says 
Aristotle,^  in  the  house  of  Orthagoras  in  Sicyon,  for  as  it 
w\is  very  moderate  and  even  popular,  it  lasted  a  century ; 
and  for  the  same  causes  it  was  preserved  about  as  long 
in  the  house  of  Cypselus  in  Corinth.  But  if  it  could 
not  he  maintained  by  such  means,  how  could  it  have 
been  kept  up  by  mere  violence  and  terror.  ^Vhere  the 
love  of  freedom  is  once  so  deeply  fixed,  as  it  was  in  the 
character  of  the  Grecians,  the  attempts  to  oppress  it  only 
give  a  new  impulse  to  its  defenders. 

'  By  desiring  to  become  avuTtrdfroj.  Aristot.  PoJit.  iv.  10.     See  above  p.  xxx. 
'  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  14. 
^  Aristot.  Polit.  v.  12 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE   GRECIAN    STATES.  179 

And  by  what  criterion  shall  the  historian,  who  invest- 
igates the  history  of  humanity,  form  his  judgment  of  the 
worth  of  these  constitutions  ?  By  that,  which  a  modern 
school,  placing  the  object  of  the  state  in  the  security  of 
person  and  of  property,  desires  to  see  adopted  ?  We  may 
observe  in  Greece  exertions  made  to  gain  that  security  ; 
but  it  is  equally  clear,  that  it  was,  and,  with  such  consti- 
tutions, could  have  been,  but  imperfectly  attained.  In 
the  midst  of  the  frequent  storms,  to  which  those  states 
were  exposed,  that  tranquillity  could  not  long  be  pre- 
served, in  \\'hich  men  limit  their  active  powers  to  the  im- 
provement of  their  domestic  condition.  It  does  not  be- 
long to  us  to  institute  inquiries  into  the  correctness  of 
those  principles ;  but  experience  does  not  admit  of  its 
being  denied,  that  in  these,  to  all  appearances,  so  im- 
perfect constitutions,  every  thing,  which  forms  the  glory 
of  man,  flourished  in  its  highest  perfection.  It  was  those 
very  storms,  which  called  forth  masterspirits,  by  opening 
to  them  a  sphere  of  action.  Th(;re  was  no  place  here 
for  indolence  and  inactivity  of  mind  ;  where  each  indi- 
vidual felt  most  sensibly,  that  he  existed  only  through 
the  state  and  with  th(^  state  ;  where  every  revolution  of 
the  state  in  some  measure  inevitably  aff(;cted  him  ;  and 
the  security  of  person  and  property  was  necessarily  much 
less  firmly  established,  than  in  well  regulated  monnrcliies. 
We  leave  to  every  one  to  form  his  own  judiiuient,  and 
select  his  own  criterion  ;  but  we  will  draw  from  the 
whole  one  general  inference,  that  the  forms  under  which 
the  character  of  the  human  race  can  be  unfolded,  have 
not  been  so  limited  by  the  hand  of  the  Eternal,  as  the 
wisdom  of  the  schools  would  lead  us  to  believe. 

But  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  value  of  these 


180  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

constitutions,  the  reflection  is  forced  upon  us,  that  they 
surpassed  all  others  in  internal  variety  ;  and  therefore  in 
no  other  nation  could  so  great  an  abundance  of  political 
ideas  have  been  awakened,  and  preserved  in  practical 
circulation.  Of  the  hundreds  of  Grecian  cities,  perhaps 
there  were  no  two,  of  which  the  constitutions  were  per- 
fectly alike  ;  and  none,  of  which  the  internal  relations 
had  not  chan";ed  their  form.  How  much  had  been  tried 
in  each  one  of  them,  and  how  often  had  the  experiments 
been  repeated  !  And  did  not  each  of  these  experiments 
enrich  the  science  of  politics  with  new  results?  Where 
then  could  there  have  been  so  much  political  animation, 
so  large  an  amount  of  practical  knowledge,  as  among  the 
Greeks  ?  if  uniformity  is,  in  the  political  world,  as  in  the 
regions  of  taste  and  letters,  the  parent  of  narrowness,  and 
if  variety,  on  the  contrary,  promotes  cultivation,  no  nation 
ever  moved  in  better  paths  than  the  Greeks.  Although 
some  cities  became  preeminent,  no  single  city  engrossed 
every  thing;  the  splendor  of  Athens  could  as  little  eclipse 
Corinth  and  Sparta,  as  Miletus  and  Syracuse.  Each  city 
had  a  life  of  its  own,  its  own  manner  of  existence  and 
action  ;  and  it  was  because  each  one  had  a  consciousness 
of  its  own  value,  that  each  came  to  possess  an  independ- 
ent worth. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  181 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS. 

The  increasing  wants  of  modern  states  have  not  only 
employed  practical  statesmen,  but  have  led  to  the  forma- 
tion of  many  theories,  of  which  the  truth  and  utility  are 
still  subjects  of  discussion.  Among  the  ancients,  the 
finances  of  the  nation  were  not  regarded  from  so  high  a 
point  of  view,  and  therefore  could  not  have  been,  in  the 
same  degree,  an  object  of  speculation.  Whether  the 
world  has  lost  by  this,  or  not,  is  a  question  which  we 
prefer  to  leave  unanswered.  If  the  ancients  knew  less 
of  the  importance  of  the  division  of  labor,  they  were  also 
less  acquainted  with  the  doctrine  of  the  modern  schools, 
which  transforms  nations  into  productive  herds.  The 
Greeks  were  aware,  that  men  must  have  productive  arts, 
if  they  would  live  ;  but  that  it  is  the  end  of  life  to  be 
employed  in  them,  never  entered  their  minds. 

But  the  modern  should  not  look  with  absolute  con- 
tempt on  the  state  of  political  science  among  the  an- 
cients. The  chief  question  now  agitated  between  theo- 
rists and  practical  statesmen,  whether  the  mere  gain  in 
money  decides  on  the  wealth  of  a  nation,  and  should 
form  the  object  of  its  industry,  was  correctly  understood 
and  answered  by  the  illustrious  Stagirite.  "  Many," 
says  he,^  "  suppose  wealth  to  consist  in  the  abundance  of 

•  Aristot.  Polit.  i.  9. 


182  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

coined  money,  because  it  is  the  object  of  usury  and  com- 
merce. Money  is  of  itself  without  value,  and  gains  its 
utility  only  by  the  law ;  when  it  ceases  to  be  current,  it 
loses  its  value, ^  and  cannot  be  employed  in  the  acqui- 
sition of  necessaries ;  and  therefore  he  who  is  rich  in 
money,  may  yet  be  destitute  of  a  necessary  support. 
But  it  is  ridiculous  to  say,  that  wealth  consists  in  any- 
thing, of  which  a  man  may  be  possessed,  and  yet  die  of 
hunger  ;  as  the  fable  relates  of  Midas,  at  whose  touch 
every  thing  became  gold."^ 

In  a  nation,  in  which  private  existence  was  subordi- 
nate to  that  of  the  public,  the  industry  employed  in  the 
increase  of  wealth,  could  not  gain  the  exclusive  import- 
ance, which  it  has  with  the  moderns.  With  the  ancients, 
the  citizen  was  first  anxious  for  the  state,  and  only  next 
for  himself.  As  long  as  there  is  any  higher  object  than 
tlie  acquisition  of  money,  the  love  of  self  cannot  manifest 
itself  so  fully,  as  where  every  more  elevated  pursuit  is 
wanting.  While  religion  in  modern  Euro])e  primarily 
engaged  the  attention  of  states,  as  of  individuals,  the 
s(,-ience  of  finances  could  not  be  fully  developed,  although 
|)ecuniary  embarrassment  was  often  very  sensibly  felt. 
Men  learned  to  tread  under  foot  the  most  glorious  pro- 
ductions of  mind,  to  tramj)le  upon  the  monuments  of 
moral  and  intellectual  greatness,  before  they  received 
those  theori(>s,  which  assign  to  the  great  instructers  of 
mankind  in   })hilosophy  and   in   religion,  a  place  in  the 

On  Tf  i(f  rii'^f  i//i  oir  T('n  yncHiivor  ot"(^fioc  a'liov  y.a'i.  /Qi[ni  nor  71  ooq  oi'i^iv  ri~>v 
inayyi'.a-)v  in,,.  I  refer /nfj/M (.-jr  to  cities  or  states.  "  If  the  cities  wliicli  liith- 
crtti  made  use  of  it.  rhnuge  it." 

'-'  Aristotle  found  in  the  traditions  of  Greece,  a  more  suitable  example,  than  that 
which  the  French  iroverninpnt  usually  cited  respecting  the  man,  who  had  abun- 
dance of  gold  on  a  desert  island. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY   OF  THE  GREEKS.  183 

unproductive  class.  In  the  states  of  Greece,  each  indi- 
vidual was  oblifjed  of  himself  to  say,  that  his  own  welfare 
was  connected  with  the  welfare  of  the  state  ;  that  his 
private  welfare  would  be  ruined  by  a  revolution  in  the 
existing  order  of  things,  by  the  rule  of  the  populace,  or 
by  subjection  to  a  foreign  power  ;  that  all  his  industry 
was  of  advantage  to  him  only  while  the  state  should  con- 
tinue to  subsist.  Althouj^h  the  patriotism,  thus  produced, 
proceeded  frequently  from  selfishness,  it  had  as  a  conse- 
quence, that  the  exertions  of  the  individual  were  directed 
to  something  besides  his  private  advantage,  and  that  his 
private  welfare  was  less  regarded  than  that  of  the  public. 
The  times  arrived,  in  w  hich  this  too  was  changed  ;  but 
they  were  the  precursors  of  the  ruin  of  liberty. 

There  was  still  another  reason,  which  contributed  to 
make  the  Greeks  regard  the  arts  of  industry  in  gene- 
ral, and  some  of  them  in  particular,  in  a  very  different 
light  from  that  in  which  they  are  now  considered.  And 
this  was  slavery,  which  w^as  generally  prevalent,  either 
under  the  form  of  domestic  servitude,  or,  in  some  states, 
of  villanage. 

To  be  convinced  of  this,  we  need  only  look  at  the  va- 
riety of  employments,  which  were  carried  on  by  slaves 
and  villains.  Such  were  all  those  household  duties, 
which  with  us  are  committed  to  footmen  ;  and  besides 
them,  several  other  charges,  as  the  superintendence,  and, 
in  part,  the  early  education  and  instruction  of  children. 
Vanity,  still  more  than  necessity,  increased  the  number 
of  those  who  were  held  in  bondage,  after  it  became  the 
custom  to  be  served  by  a  numerous  retinue  of  beautiful 
slaves.  In  the  same  manner,  all  labors  were  performed, 
which  are  now  done  by  journeymen  and  lacqueys.   Some 


184  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

of  the  rich  Grecians  made  a  business  of  keeping  slaves 
to  let  for  such  services.  All  kinds  of  labor  in  the  mines 
were  performed  bj  slaves  ;  who,  as  well  as  the  mines, 
were  the  property  of  individual  citizens.^  The  sailors  on 
board  of  the  galleys,  consisted,  at  least  in  part,  of  slaves. 
Most  if  not  all  trades  were  carried  on  by  slaves  ;  who 
were  universally  employed  in  the  manufacturing  estab- 
lishments. In  these,  not  only  the  laborers,  but  also  the 
overseers  were  slaves ;  for  the  owners  did  not  even 
trouble  themselves  with  the  care  of  superintending  ;  but 
they  farmed  the  whole  to  persons,  who  were  perhaps 
often  the  overseers  also,  and  from  whom  they  received  a 
certain  rent,  according  to  the  number  of  slaves,  which 
they  were  obliged  to  keep  undiminished.^  In  those 
states,  where  there  were  slaves  attached  to  the  soil,  as  in 
Laconia,  Messenia,  Crete,  and  Thessaly,  agriculture  was 
conducted  exclusively  by  them.  In  the  others,  the  mas- 
ters may  have  bestowed  more  attention  on  the  subject  ; 
but  as  the  Strepsiades  of  the  comedian  shows,  they  did 
little  more  than  superintend;  and  the  work  was  left  to 
the  slaves. 

If  we  put  all  this  together,  we  shall  see  how  limited 
were  the  branches  of  industry,  which  remained  for  the 
free.  But  the  most  unavoidable,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  most  important  consequence  of  it  was,  that  all  those 
employments  which  were  committed  to  slaves,  were  re- 
gard(;d  as  mean  and  degrading  ;^  and  this  view  of  them 
was  not  only  confirmed  by  prevailing  prejudices,  but  ex- 


'  Xenoph.  de  Redit.  speaks  of  this  point  at  large. 
=  See  Petit,  de  Le^r.  Att.  ii.  G. 

^  Buiarnoi,  artcs  illibaalcs.     We  have  no  word  which  exactly  expresses  this 
idea,  because  we  have  not  the  thing  itself. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF   THE  GREEKS.  185 

pressly  sanctioned  by  the  laws.  To  this  class  belonged 
especially  the  mechanics,  and  even  the  retailers.  For 
although  all  mechanic  employments  were  by  no  means 
conducted  by  slaves,  a  shade  was  thrown  on  them  all. 
"  In  well  regulated  states,"  says  Aristotle,^  "  the  lower 
order  of  mechanics  are  not  even  admitted  to  the  rights 
of  citizens ; "  and  now  we  cease  to  wonder  at  the  prop- 
osition of  another  statesman,^  who  would  commit  all  me- 
chanic labors  to  public  slaves.  This  was  not  merely  a 
theory  ;  it  was  once  actually  put  in  practice  at  Epidam- 
nus.^  In  the  cities  which  were  democratically  governed, 
the  condition  of  the  mechanics  was  somewhat  more  fa- 
vorable. They  could  become  citizens  and  magistrates, 
as  at  Athens  during  the  period  of  the  democracy.''  The 
inferior  branches  of  trade  were  not  looked  upon  with 
much  more  favor.  In  Thebes,  there  was  a  law,  that  no 
one,  who  within  ten  years  had  been  engaged  in  retail 
dealings,  could  be  elected  to  a  magistracy.'^ 

As  the  Grecian  cities  were  very  different  in  character, 
the  ideas  which  prevailed  on  this  subject,  could  not  be 
the  same.  In  those  states  where  agriculture  was  the 
chief  employment,  the  other  means  of  gaining  a  liveli- 
hood may  have  been  despised.  In  maritime  and  com- 
mercial towns,  of  which  the  number  was  very  consider- 
able, the  business  of  commerce  must  have  been  esteemed. 
But  those  who  were  employed  in  manufacturing  and 
selling  goods,  were  never  able  to  gain  that  degree  of  re- 


'  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  5.     'H  Si  ^i}.rlnrr^  no^.i?  ov  ncn'ati  (iuyavaov  nof.'nr^v. 

*  Phaneas  of  Chalcedon.     Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  7. 
3  Aristot.  Polit.  1.  c. 

*  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  4. 

*  Aristot.  1.  c. 

24 


186  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

spectability,  which  thej  enjoy  among  modern  nations.^ 
Even  in  Athens,  says  Xenophon,*  much  would  be  gained 
by  treating  more  respectfully  and  more  hospitably  the 
foreign  merchants,  brought  by  their  business  to  that  city. 
The  income  derived  from  landed  estate,  was  most  esteemed 
by  the  Greeks.  "  The  best  nation,"  says  Aristotle,^  "  is 
a  nation  of  farmers." 

From  the  little  esteem  in  which  the  other  means  of 
gaining  a  livelihood  were  held,  it  followed  that  a  wealthy 
middling  class  could  not  be  formed  in  the  Grecian  states  ; 
and  this  is  censured  by  those  who  have  criticised  their 
constitutions,  as  the  chief  cause  of  their  unsettled  condi- 
tion. But  this  censure  rests,  for  the  most  part,  on  an 
erroneous  representation.  It  was  degrading  for  a  Grecian 
to  carry  on  any  of  those  kinds  of  employment  with  his 
own  hands  ;  but  it  by  no  means  lessened  his  consideration 
to  have  them  conducted  on  his  account.  Work-shops 
and  manufactures,  as  well  as  mines  and  lands,  could  be 
possessed  by  the  first  men  in  the  country.  The  father  of 
Demosthenes,  a  rich  and  respectable  man,  left  at  his 
death  a  manufactory  of  swords  ;  which  was  kept  up  by 
his  son  ;^  and  examples  could  be  easily  multiplied,  from 
the  orators  and  the  comedian.  When  this  circumstance 
is  kept  in  view,  the  blame  attached  to  the  Grecian  con- 
stitutions is,  in  a  great  measure,  though  not  entirely  re- 
moved. The  impediments  which  public  opinion  put  in 
the  way  of  industry,  did  not  so  much  injure  those  con- 
cerned in  any  large  enterprise,  as  those  engaged  in  the 

'   Compare  on  this  subject,  first  of  all,  Aristot.  Polit.  i.  11,  where  he  analyzes 
and  treats  of  the  several  branches  of  industry. 
"  Xcn.  de  Redit.  Op.  p.  'j22,  Leunclav. 
3  Aristot.  Polit.  vi.  4. 
*  Demosth.  adv.  Aphob.  Op.  ii.  p.  81G. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF  THE   GREEKS.  187 

smaller  occupations.  The  latter  did  really  feel  the  evil, 
and  we  are  not  disposed  to  represent  it  as  inconsiderable. 
But  we  must  return  once  more  to  the  remark  which 
explains  the  true  cause  of  this  regulation  ;  that  in  the 
Grecian  states,  public  life  was  placed  above  private  life. 
"  All  agree,"  says  Aristotle,^  "  that  in  every  well  regu- 
lated state,  sufficient  leisure  must  be  preserved  from  the 
wants  of  life  for  the  public  business;  but  a  difference  of 
opinion  exists  as  to  the  manner  in  which  this  can  be 
done.  It  is  effected  by  means  of  slaves  ;  who  are  not, 
however,  treated  in  all  places  alike."  Here  we  have  the 
point  of  view,  from  which  the  politician  should  consider 
slavery  in  Greece.  It  served  to  raise  the  class  of  citi- 
zens to  a  sort  of  nobility,  especially  where  they  consisted 
almost  entirely  of  landed  proprietors.  It  is  true,  that 
this  class  lived  by  the  labors  of  the  other  ;  and  every 
thing,  which  in  modern  times  has  been  said  respecting 
and  against  slavery,  may  therefore  so  far  be  applied  to 
the  Grecians.  But  their  fame  does  not  rest  on  the  cir- 
cumstance of  their  obtaining  that  leisure  at  the  expense 
of  the  lower  order  ;  but  in  the  application,  which  the 
noblest  of  them  made  of  that  leisure.  No  one  will  deny, 
that  without  their  slaves,  the  character  of  the  culture  of 
the  upper  class  in  Greece  could  in  no  respects  have  be- 
come what  it  did  ;  and  if  the  fruits  which  were  borne, 
possess  a  value  for  every  cultivated  mind,  we  may  at 
least  be  permitted  to  doubt,  whether  they  were  too  dearly 
purchased  by  the  introduction  of  slavery.* 

'  Aristotle  ii.  9. 

'^  This  may  be  the  more  safely  asserted,  because  it  is  hardly  possible  to  say 
any  ihini;  in  general  on  the  condition  of  slaves  in  Greece  ;  so  different  vv.is  it  at 
different  times  ;  in  different  countries  ;  and  even  in  the  same  country.  On  this 
subject  I  would  refer  to  the  following  instructive  work;  Geschichte  und  Zustand 


188  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

The  free  exertions  of  industry  were  in  some  measure 
limited  by  the  regulations  of  which  we  have  spoken  ;  but 
in  a  very  different  manner  from  any  usual  in  our  times. 
They  were  the  result  of  public  opinion  ;  and  if  they 
were  confirmed  by  the  laws,  this  was  done  in  conformity 
to  that  opinion.  In  other  respects,  the  interference  of 
government  in  the  matter  was  inconsiderable.  No  efforts 
were  made  to  preserve  the  mass  of  species  undiminished, 
or  to  increase  it;  nothing  was  known  of  the  balance  of 
trade  ;  and  consequently  all  the  violent  measures  resulting 
from  it,  were  never  devised  by  the  Greeks.  They  had 
duties,  as  well  as  the  moderns  ;  but  those  duties  were 
exacted  only  for  the  sake  of  increasing  the  public  revenue, 
not  to  direct  the  efforts  of  domestic  industry,  by  the 
prohibition  of  certain  wares.  There  was  no  prohibition 
of  the  ex|)ortation  of  raw  materials  by  way  of  protec- 
tion ; '  no  encouragement  of  manufactures  at  the  ex- 
pense oi"  the  agriculturists.  In  this  respect,  therefore, 
tiiere  existed  n^M^dom  of  occupations,  commerce,  and 
trad(\  And  such  was  the  general  custom.  As  every 
thing  was  dc^cided  by  circumstances  and  not  by  theories, 
th(M("  may  have  been  single  exceptions  ;  and  perhaps 
single  examples,'^  where  the  state  for  a  season  usurped  a 


dcr  Sclavercy  und  Lcibeigonschaft  in  Grieclieiiland.  von  J.  F.  ReitemP3'er.  Ber- 
lin. I7~!t.  History  and  Condition  of  Slavery  and  Villanage  in  Greece,  by  J.  F. 
Reltenicyer. 

^  The  exportation  of  articles  of  food,  especially  of  corn,  mav  have  been  pro- 
hibited it  Athens  and  elsewhere,  -when  a  scarcity  was  n})preliended.  Siicli  pro- 
hibitions were  natural,  and  could  not  well  fail  of  being  made.  The  remark  in 
tlie  text  refers  to  prohibitions  to  favor  domestic  industry  ;  as  of  the  export  of 
unmanufactured  wool.  I'his  explanation  is  in  answer  to  tlie  remarks  of  Pro- 
fessor Boeckli  in  his  work  on  the  Public  Economy  of  the  Athenians,  i.  56. 

'  Aristot   de  Re  Famil.  1.  ii. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF  THE   GREEKS.  189 

monopoly.  But  how  far  was  this  from  the  mercantile 
and  restrictive  system  of  the  moderns  ! 

The  reciprocal  influence  between  national  economy, 
and  that  of  the  state,  is  so  great  and  so  natural,  that  it 
was  necessary  to  premise  a  few  observations  respecting 
the  former.  Before  we  treat  of  the  latter,  it  will  be 
useful  to  say  a  few  words  on  a  subject,  which  is  equally 
important  to  both  ;  the  money  of  the  Greeks. 

National  economy  can  exist  without  money,  but  finances 
cannot.  It  would  be  important  to  fix  the  time,  when 
coined  money  first  became  current  in  Greece,  and  when 
money  was  first  coined  in  the  country  itself.  But  it  is 
difficult  to  give  an  exact  answer  to  either  of  these  ques- 
tions, especially  to  the  first.  Homer  never  speaks  of 
money ;  and  his  silence  is  in  this  case  valid  as  evidence  ; 
for  in  more  than  one  passage  where  he  speaks  of  a  bar- 
ter,^ he  must  necessarily  have  mentioned  it,  if  he  had 
been  acquainted  with  it.  On  the  other  hand,  we  may 
confidently  affirm  on  the  authority  of  Demosthenes,  that 
in  the  age  of  Solon,'^  coined  silver  money  was  not  only 
known  in  the  cities  of  Greece,  but  had  been  in  circula- 
tion for  a  length  of  time  ;^    for  the  punishment  of  death 

'  As  for  example,  11.  vi.  472.     Od.  i.  430. 

^  About  GOO  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

'  "  [  will  relate  to  you,"  says  the  orator,  while  opposing  a  bill  brought  in  by 
Timocrates,  "  what  Solon  once  said  against  a  man  who  proposed  a  bad  law.  The 
cities,  said  he  to  the  judges,  have  a  law,  that  he  who  counterfeits  money,  shall 
be  put  to  death.  He  thought  this  law  was  made  for  the  protection  of  private 
persons,  and  their  private  intercourse  ;  but  the  laws  he  esteemed  the  coin  of  the 
state.  They,  therefore,  who  corrupt  the  laws,  must  be  much  more  heavily  pun- 
ished, than  they  who  adulterate  the  coinage  or  introduce  false  money.  Yea, 
many  cities  exist  and  flourish,  although  they  debase  their  silver  money  with 
brass  and  lead  ;  but  those  which  have  bad  laws,  will  certainly  be  ruined." 
Demosth.  in  Timocrat.  Op.  i.  p.  7G3,  704.  Compare  with  this  what  Herod,  iii.  56, 
remarks  of  the  counterfeit  money,  with  which  Polycrates  is  said  to  have  cheated 
the  Spartans. 


190  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

had  already  been  set  upon  the  crime  of  counterfeit- 
ing it ;  Solon  mentioned  it  as  in  general  use  throughout 
the  Grecian  cities ;  and  many  of  them  had  already  sup- 
plied its  place  with  the  baser  metals.  The  Grecian 
coins,  which  are  still  extant,  can  afford  us  no  accurate 
dates,  as  the  time  of  their  coinage  is  not  marked  upon 
them  ;  but  several  of  them  are  certainly  as  ancient  as 
the  age  of  Solon ;  and  perhaps  are  even  older.  The 
coins  of  Sybaris,  for  examjle,  must  be  at  least  of  the 
sixth  century  before  the  christian  era ;  as  that  city  was 
totally  destroyed  in  the  year  510  B.  C.  The  most  an- 
cient coins  of  Rhegium,  Croton,  and  Syracuse,  seem 
from  the  letters  in  the  superscriptions  to  be  of  far  higher 
antiquity.^  If  the  account  that  Lycurgus  prohibited  in 
Sparta,  the  use  of  money  of  the  precious  metals,  is  well 
su])poited,^  we  should  be  able  to  trace  the  history  of 
Grecian  coins  to  a  still  more  remote  age  ;  and  this  opin- 
ion is  corroborated  at  least  by  the  narration  of  the  Parian 
chronicle,^  that  Phidon  of  Argos  in  the  year  631  (i.  e.  895 
years  B.  C.)  first  began  to  coin  silver  in  the  island  of 
iEgina. 

But  although  we  cannot  at  present  trace  the  history  of 
coined  money  in  Greece  any  farther,^  we  may  from  the 
preceding  observations  infer  one  general  conclusion  ;  the 
founding  of  colonies  and   the   intercourse  kept  up  with 

'    rkliol.  !)((trina  Xuniorrm  Vetcrum.  i.  p.  ]70 — ]77.  2-42. 

-  Plutiirch.  ill  Lycurg.  Op.  i,  y.  177.  His  code  is  computed  to  iiave  been 
given  about  S~0  years  1'.  C. 

■■  Mariiior  Parium.  Ep.  .\.\xi.  cf.  Strabo  viii.  p  503.  This  was  about  15  years 
before  tlie  leiiislation  of  L3-curuus.  It  might,  therefore,  not  witliout  probability 
be  supposr'd.  that  Lycuronis  wished  and  was  able  to  prohibit  money  of  the  pre- 
cious inela's,  because  it  at  that  time  wasjust  beginniiifi;  to  circulate  in  Greece. 

'  Conipaie  ^Vachteri  Arcluvologia  Numtnaria,  Lips.  1740;  and  the  introduc- 
tory inquiries  in  Ekhel.  D.  iS.  V. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY  OF   THE  GREEKS.  191 

them,  caused  coined  money  to  be  introduced  and  exten- 
sively used  in  Greece.  Before  their  foundation,  the 
Greeks  knew  nothing  of  coined  money.  When  money 
was  first  coined  in  .^Egina,  the  colonies  of  Asia  Minor 
and  of  Magna  Graecia^  were  already  established  and  flour- 
ishing ;  and  we  are  expressly  informed,  that  money  was 
coined  in  that  island,  in  order  to  carry  on  commerce  be- 
yond the  sea.^  It  cannot  be  proved  with  certainty,  that 
money  was  coined  in  the  Asiatic  colonies  sooner  than  in 
the  mother  country.  But  when  we  call  to  mind  the  well 
known  relation  of  Herodotus,^  that  the  Lydians  were  the 
inventors  of  money  coined  of  gold  and  silver,  (a  thing 
in  itself  not  improbable,  as  it  is  known  that  Lydia 
abounded  in  gold,^)  and  that  the  most  flourishing  Gre- 
cian colonies  were  situated  on  the  Lydian  coasts,  we 
cannot  but  find  it  highly  probable,  that  the  Greeks  re- 
ceived the  art  of  coining,  like  so  many  other  inventions, 
from  Asia  ;  and  here  too,  the  remark  is  valid,  that  in 
their  hands  every  thing  received  a  new  form  and  a  new 
beauty.  For  no  nation  has  ever  yet  had  coins,  of  which 
the  stamp  equalled  in  beauty  those  of  the  Grecian,  and 
especially  of  the  Sicilian  cities. 

The  right  of  minting  gold  was  regarded  in  Greece  as 
the  privilege  of  the  state,  which  superintended  it.  Hence 
arose  that  variety  and  multitude  of  city  coins,  which  are 
easily  distinguished  by  their  peculiar  stamp.  Coins  were 
also  struck  by  several  of  the  tribes,  the  Thessalians,  the 
Boeotians,  and  others,  as  they  formed  by  their  alliances 
one  political  body. 

'  As  e.  g.  Cuma3. 

'^  Strabo  viii.  p.  577.     He  refers  to  Ephorus.  ^  Herod,  i.  94. 

*  Nor  is  there  any  otlier  nation,  which  disputes  this  lionor  with  the  Lydians. 
For  the  Egyptians  e.  g.  are  named  without  any  reason.    See  Wachter,  1.  c.  cap.  iv. 


192  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

Though  the  Grecian  coins  were  of  both  precious  and 
base  metals,  they  were  originally  struck  of  precious  metal 
only,  and  probably  at  first  of  nothing  but  silver.  So  few 
of  the  gold  coins  have  been  preserved,  that  we  cannot 
certainly  say,  whether  they  are  altogether  as  ancient ; 
but  those  of  base  metal  are  certainly  of  a  later  period. 
That  even  before  the  time  of  Solon,  silver  money  had  in 
many  cities  a  large  proportion  of  alloy,  appears  from  the 
passage  which  we  cited  from  Demosthenes.^  In  Hellas 
itself,  we  know  of  no  silver  mines  except  those  of  Lau- 
rium,  which  were  very  ancient  f  but  the  gold  mines  of 
Thrace  and  the  neighboring  island  Thasos  were  quite  as 
ancient,  for  they  were  wrought  by  the  Phoenicians.  Yet 
the  Greeks  received  most  of  their  gold  from  Lydia.  And 
still  there  was  not  species  enough  in  circulation,  espe- 
cially in  the  commercial  towns ;  and  although  the  Greeks 
knew  nothing  of  paper  money,  several  cities  made  use  of 
the  same  resource,  which  had  been  introduced  at  Car- 
thage,^ the  use  of  nominal  coins,  which  possessed  a  cur- 
rent value,  not  corresponding  to  their  intrinsic  one.''  Such 
was  the  iron  money  (if  my  view  is  a  just  one)  which  was 
adopted  in  Byzantium,  Clazomene,^  and  perhaps  in  some 
other  cities.*^     It  is  certain,  therefore,  that  the  Greeks 


'  Yet  the  ancient  gold  coins  which  we  still  possess,  have  almost  no  alloy,  and 
the  silver  ones  very  little. 

-  So  old,  that  it  was  impossible  to  fix  their  age.  Xenoph.  de  Redit.  Op.  p. 
024. 

3  Ileeren's  Idcen  ii.  S.  1C4.  ■*  Pollux  ix.  76. 

^  Aristot.  OUcon.  ii.  Op.  ii.  p.  383.     A  decisive  passage. 

''  Most  of  the  cities,  says  Xenophon,  Op.  p.  922,  have  money,  which  is  not  cur- 
rent except  in  their  own  territory  ;  hence  merchants  are  obliged  to  barter  their 
own  wares  for  other  wares.  Athens  makes  a  solitary  exception  ;  its  silver 
drachmas  had  universal  currency.  It  was  therefore  quite  common  for  cities  to 
have  two  kinds  of  money,  coins  of  nominal  value,  current  only  in  the  city  which 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF   THE   GREEKS.  193 

had  money  which  was  current  only  in  the  state,  and  out 
of  it  was  of  no  value  ;  as  we  learn  also  from  a  passage  in 
Plato.^  It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  we  do  not  know 
by  what  means  its  value  was  kept  from  falling. 

The  inquiry  into  the  economy  of  a  nation,  intricate  as 
it  may  be,  can  be  reduced  to  the  following  points ;  What 
were  the  wants  of  the  state  ?  What  means  were  adopted 
to  supply  them  ?  How  were  those  means  brought  to- 
gether ?  How  administered  ?  The  inquiry  respecting 
the  economy  of  the  Grecian  states  will  be  conducted  with 
reference  to  these  questions. 

The  small  republics  of  that  people  appear  at  the  first 
view,  according  to  the  modern  criterion,  to  have  hardly 
had  any  wants,  which  could  make  a  financial  system 
necessary  ;  and  in  fact  there  were  some  states,  as  Sparta 
during  a  long  period,  without  any  finances.  The  magis- 
trates were  rewarded  with  honor,  not  with  a  salarv. 
The  soldiers  were  citizens  and  not  hirelings ;  and  many 
of  those  public  institutions,  which  are  now  supported  by 
the  governments  for  the  most  various  purposes,  and  in 
part  at  very  great  expense,  were  then  entirely  unknown, 
because  they  were  not  felt  to  he  necessary. 

And  yet  we  find  that  the  burdens  which  the  citizens 
of  those  republics  had  to  support,  continued  gradually  to 
increase  ;  especially  at  the  epochs  of  the  Persian  wars, 
and  the  Peloponnesian,  and  in  the  later  period  of  Grecian 
liberty,  they  became  very  oppressive.      States  can  create 

struck  them  ;  and  metallic  money,  of  which  the  value  depended  on  its  intrinsic 
worth,  and  which  circulated  in  other  places.  Hence  Plato  de  Legg.  v  p.  742, 
permits  this  in  his  state. 

'   Plato  1.  c.     The  current  silver  money  consisted  in  drachmas,  and  pieces  of 
money  were  struck  of  as  much  as  four  drachmas.     Ekhel  i.  p    Ixxxv.  thinks  it 
probable,  that  the  other  cities,  in  their  silver  coin,  followed  the  Attic  standard. 
25 


194  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

wants,  no  less  than  individuals.  Even  in  Greece,  expe- 
rience shows  that  necessities  are  multiplied  with  the 
increase  of  power  and  splendor.  But  when  we  call 
them  oppressive,  we  must  not  forget,  that  the  heaviness 
of  the  contributions  paid  to  the  state,  is  not  to  be  esti- 
mated by  their  absolute  amount ;  nor  yet  by  the  propor- 
tion alone,  which  that  amount  bears  to  the  income.  In 
our  present  investigations,  it  is  more  important  to  bear 
in  mind,  what  our  modern  economists  have  entirely  over- 
looked, that  in  republican  states  (or  at  least  more  espe- 
cially in  them)  there  exists  beside  the  criterion  of  money, 
a  moral  criterion,  by  which  a  judgment  on  the  greater  or 
less  degree  of  oppression  is  to  be  formed.  Where  the 
citizen  exists  only  with  and  for  the  state ;  where  the 
preservation  of  the  commonwealth  is  every  thing  to  the 
individual  ;  many  a  tax  is  easily  paid,  which  under  other 
circumstances  would  have  been  highly  oppressive.  But 
in  the  theories  of  our  modern  political  artists,  there  is  no 
chapter,  which  treats  of  the  important  influence  of  pa- 
triotism and  public  spirit  on  the  financial  system  ;  proba- 
bly because  the  statistical  tables  have  no  rubric  for  them 
as  sources  of  produce. 

The  wants  of  states  are  partly  established  by  their  na- 
ture ;  but  still  more  by  opinion.  That  is  a  real  want, 
which  is  believed  to  be  such.  The  explanation  of  the 
management  of  the  affairs  of  any  nation  would  necessa- 
rily be  very  imperfect,  if  we  should  pay  no  regard  to  the 
ideas,  which  it  entertained  respecting  its  necessities.  On 
this  point  the  Greeks  had  very  different  notions  from 
ours.  Many  things  seemed  essential  to  them,  which  do 
not  appear  so  to  us  ;  many  things  are  needed  by  us,  of 
which  they  did  not  feel  the  necessity. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY   OF  THE   GREEKS.  195 

The  first  object  with  the  Greek  was 'the  honor  and 
splendor  of  bis  city.  In  that  world  of  small  republics, 
each  wished  to  make  itself  remarkable  ;  each  to  be  dis- 
tinguished for  something.  Now  there  were  two  things, 
which  in  the  eyes  of  the  Greeks,  rendered  a  city  illus- 
trious ;  its  public  monuments  and  its  festivals.  These 
objects  were  therefore  politically  necessary,  in  a  differ- 
ent sense  from  that  in  which  they  can  be  called  so  in 
modern  states.  Among  these  the  first  place  belongs  to 
the  temples.  No  Grecian  city  was  without  gods,  of 
whom  it  honored  some  as  its  guardian  deities.  How 
could  these  gods  be  left  without  dwelling-places  ?  The 
art  of  sculpture  was  very  naturally  exerted  in  connection 
with  that  of  architecture  ;  for  the  statues  of  the  gods 
did  not  merely  adorn  the  temples,  but  were  indispensa- 
bly necessary  as  objects  of  adoration.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  the  festivals.  Life  without  holidays  would 
have  ceased  to  be  life  to  a  Greek.  But  these  holidays 
were  not  passed  exclusively  in  prayers,  or  at  banquets. 
Processions,  music,  and  public  shows,  were  an  essential 
part  of  them.  These  were  not  merely  the  diversions  of 
the  people  during  the  festival,  they  constituted  the  festival 
itself. 

All  this  was  intimately  connected  with  religion. 
The  Greeks  had  almost  no  public  festivals  except  re- 
ligious ones.  They  were  celebrated  in  honor  of  some 
god,  some  hero ;  above  all  in  honor  of  the  patron  deities 
of  the  place.'  By  this  means,  many  things  which  we 
are  accustomed  to  regard  as  objects  of  amusement,  re- 
ceived a  much  more   elevated   character.     They  became 

'  Menrsii  Grojcia  Feriata,  in  Gronov.  Thes.  Ant.  Grace,  vol.  vii.  is  one  of  the 
richest  compilations  on  the  subject  of  the  Grecian  festivals. 


196  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

duties  enjoined  by  religion  ;  which  could  not  be  neglected 
without  injury  to  the  honor  and  reputation,  and  even  to 
the  welfare  of  the  city.  The  gods  would  have  been  in- 
censed ;  and  the  accidental  evils,  which  might  have 
fallen  on  the  city,  would  infallibly  have  been  regarded  as 
punishments  inflicted  by  the  gods.  We  need  not  there- 
fore be  astonished,  \n  hen  we  hear  that  a  city  could  be 
very  seriously  embarrassed  for  want  of  sufficient  means 
to  celebrate  its  festivals  with  due  solemnity.^ 

Thus  an  almost  inmieasurabie  field  was  opened  for 
public  expenses  of  a  kind,  hardly  known  to  modern 
slates.  Even  in  cases  where  the  governments  believe  it 
necessary  to  expend  something  on  public  festivals,  little 
is  done  except  in  the  capital  ;  and  this  expenditure  has 
never,  to  our  knowledge,  made  an  article  in  a  budget. 
It  would  have  made  the  very  first  in  Grecian  cities,  at 
least  in  times  of  peace.  And  he  who  can  vividly  pre- 
sent those  states  to  his  mind,  will  easily  perceive  how 
many  things  must  have  conibined  to  increase  these  ex- 
penditures. They  were  prompted  not  by  a  mere  regard 
for  the  honor  of  the  state  ;  jealousy  and  envy  of  the 
other  cities  were  of  influence  also.  And  still  more  is  to 
be  attributed  to  the  emulation  and  the  vanity  of  those, 
who  were  appointed  to  the  charge  of  the  expenditures. 
One  desired  to  surpass  another.  This  was  the  most 
reputable  manner  of  dis])laying  wealth.  And  although, 
as  far  as  we  know,  public  shows  were  not,  in  the  Gre- 
cian cities,  so  indispensably  the  means  of  gaining  the 
favor  of  the  ])e()ple  as  at  Rome,  (probably  because  what 
in  KoiiK^  was  oriiiinally  voluntary,  had  ever  been  con- 
sider(^d   in  Gie(;ce  as  one  of  the  duties  and  burdens  of  a 

'  Consult  what.  Aristotle  relates  of  Antissseus,  Op.  ii.  p.  390. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF  THE  GREEKS.  197 

citizen,  which  did  not  merit  even  thanks,)  political  ends 
may  have  often  been  of  influence  w^ith  individuals. 

The  Grecian  temples  had,  for  the  most  part,  posses- 
sions of  their  own,  with  which  they  met  the  expenses 
incurred  in  the  service  of  the  god.  Their  possessions 
consisted  partly  in  votive  presents,  which,  especially 
where  the  divinities  of  health  and  prophecy  were  adored, 
had  been  offered  by  the  hopes  or  the  gratitude  of  the 
suppliants  for  aid  and  counsel.  We  know  from  several 
examples,  especially  from  that  of  the  Delphic  temple, 
that  treasures  were  there  accumulated,  of  more  value 
probably  than  those  of  Loretto,  or  any  other  shrine  in 
Europe.*  But  as  they  were  sacred  to  the  gods,  and  did 
not  come  into  circulation,  they  were,  for  the  most  part, 
but  unproductive  treasures,  possessing  no  other  value 
than  what  they  received  from  the  artist.  We  could  desire 
more  accurate  information  respecting  the  administration 
of  the  treasures  of  the  temples  ;  for  it  seems  hardly  cred- 
ible, that  the  great  stores  of  gold  and  silver,  which  were 
not  wrought,  should  have  been  left  entirely  unemployed. 
But  besides  these  treasures,  the  temples  drew  a  large 
part  of  their  revenue  from   lands  ;^  which  were   not  un- 

'  The  consequences  with  which  the  profanation  of  the  Delphic  treasures  in 
the  Sacred  war,  wos  fraught  for  Greece,  may  be  learned  from  Athen.  vi.  231 ,  etc. 

*  Not  only  single  fields,  but  whole  districts  were  consecrated  to  the  gods. 
Beside  the  fields  of  Cirrha,  it  was  desired  to  consecrate  the  whole  of  Phocis  to 
Apollo  of  Delphi.  Diod.  xvi.  p.  245.  Brasidas  devoted  to  Pallas  the  territory 
of  Lecythus,  which  he  had  conquered.  Thucyd,  iv.  cap.  116.  It  is  a  mistake  to 
believe  that  the  consecrated  land  must  have  remained  uncultivated.  That  of 
Ciriha  remained  so,  because  a  curse  rested  on  it.  Pausan.  p.  894.  In  other 
cases  it  was  used  sometimes  for  pasture  land,  especially  for  the  sacred  herds; 
Thucyd.  v.  53;  sometimes  it  was  tilled  ;  Thucyd.  iii.  68  ;  but  for  the  most  part 
let  for  a  rent.  Whoever  did  not  pay  the  rent,  uorn^cLcinQ  rror  Tiuficn,  was  consid- 
ered destitute  of  honor.  Demosth.  in  Macart.  Op.  ii.  p.  10G9.  In  another  pas- 
sage, the  orator  complains  of  the  number  of  enemies  he  had  made  by  collecting 


198  CHAPTER   TENTH. 

frequently  consecrated  to  their  service.  When  a  new 
colonial  city  was  built,  it  was  usual  to  devote  at  once  a 
part  of  its  territory  to  the  gods.^  But  although  these 
resources  were  sufficient  for  the  support  of  the  temple, 
the  priests,  the  various  persons  employed  in  the  service  of 
the  temple,  and  perhaps  the  daily  sacrifices,  yet  the  in- 
cense and  other  expenses,  the  celebration  of  the  festivals 
with  all  the  costs  connected  with  it,  still  continued  a 
burden  to  be  borne  by  the  public. 

Beside  the  expenses  which  were  required  by  religion 
and  the  honor  of  the  city,  there  were  others  which  the 
administration  made  necessary.  The  magistrates,  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word,  were  without  salaries  ;  but  the 
state  needed  many  inferior  servants  for  the  taxes,  the  po- 
lice, etc.  ;  and  these  must  certainly  have  been  paid.^ 
Add  to  this,  that  several  of  the  duties  of  citizens  were  of 
sucli  a  nature  that  it  subsequently  became  necessary  to 
pay  for  the  performance  of  them,  though  it  had  not  been 
done  at  an  earlier  period.  To  this  class  belongs  the  duty 
of  attending  in  the  courts ;  and  the  investigation  of  the 
Attic  state  will  prove  to  us,  that  the  number  of  those 
who  were  to  be  paid,  caused  this  expense  to  be  one  of 
the  heaviest. 

But  as  the  states  increased  in  power,  the  greatest  ex- 
])eiiditures  were  occasioned  by  the  military  and  naval 
establishments.     These  expenditures,  were,  for  the  most 

tlu'pc  rents  wlien  lie  was  Dcniarch.  Or.  in  Eiibulid.  Op.  ii.  p.  131S.  Two  con- 
tr:;('ts  fur  similar  rents  have  been  preserved.  Mazoclii  Tabb.  lleracleens,  p.  145, 
etc..  niid  2-"7,  etc. 

1   Phto  do  Leo-(T.  iv.  p.  717. 

-  But  thoui^li  the  magistrates  were  not  paid,  there  were  certain  offices  (espe- 
cially such  as  were  connected  with  the  care  of  any  funds),  which  could  be  made 
very  produc'ivc  (o  those  who  held  them.  An  example  of  this  kind  is  found  in 
Demoslh.  in  JNIid.  Op.  i.  p.  570. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF   THE   GREEKS.  199 

part,  extraordinary  ;  since  the  state  in  times  of  peace  had 
no  standing  army,  and  no  mariners  to  pay.  But  even  in 
times  of  peace,  large  appropriations  were  needed  for  the 
support  of  the  magazines  and  the  ships  ;  and  unfortu- 
nately for  Greece,  the  common  condition  of  the  more 
powerful  states  came  at  last  to  be  that  of  war  rather  than 
of  peace.  If  wars  under  any  circumstances  are  costly, 
two  causes  contributed  to  make  them  especially  so  in 
Greece.  The  first  was  the  custom  which  arose  of  em- 
ploying hired  troops.  As  long  as  wars  were  carried  on 
by  the  militia  of  the  country,  which  required  no  pay,  the 
costs  of  them  were  not  very  considerable,  as  each  one 
served  at  his  own  expense.  But  when  hired  troops  began 
to  be  used,  every  thing  was  changed.  We  shall  take 
another  opportunity  of  showing  how  this  custom,  by 
which  the  whole  political  condition  of  Greece  was  most 
deeply  and  incurably  disordered,  continued  to  gain  ground 
from  the  first  moment  of  its  introduction.  Hence  pro- 
ceeded the  pecuniary  embarrassment  of  so  many  Grecian 
cities  during  the  Peloponnesian  war.  The  second  lead- 
ing cause  is  to  be  found  in  the  progress  of  naval  forces, 
and  their  increasing  importance  to  the  ruling  states. 
The  building,  support,  and  fitting  out  of  squadrons,  which 
are  always  so  expensive,  must  have  been  doubly  so  to 
the  Greeks,  who  were  obliged  to  import  their  timber  and 
many  other  articles  from  a  distance.  The  expense  be- 
came still  greater,  when  the  cities  began  to  outbid  each 
other  in  the  pay  of  their  mariners ;  which  they  did,  as 
soon  as  the  Spartans  were  enabled  by  the  Persian  sup- 
plies to  cope  in  this  matter  with  their  rivals.^     Need  we 

'  This  is  known  to  have  been  done  during  the  Peloponnesian  war  as  well  by 
the  Corinthians,  Thucyd,  i.  31 ,  as  by  Sparta,  which  state  received  of  the  Persians 


200  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

be  astonished,  then,  at  finding  under  such  circumstances, 
that  the  trierarchies,  or  contributions  of  the  rich  towards 
the  fitting  out  of  the  galleys,  were  the  most  oppressive  of 
all  the  public  burdens?^ 

Different,  therefore,  as  was  the  list  of  public  expenses 
from  that  of  modern  states,  we  still  find  points  of  agree- 
ment. We  have  now  to  inquire,  What  were  the  sources 
of  the  public  revenue  ?  What  in  particular  was  the 
system  of  taxation  ? 

There  is  but  one  state  in  Greece,  that  of  Athens,  re- 
specting which,  any  accurate  information  on  this  subject 
has  been  preserved.  It  would  be  too  hasty  an  inference 
to  say,  that  what  was  usual  in  that  city  was  usual  in  the 
others.  But  though  the  particular  regulations  may  have 
been  very  different,  a  great  general  similarity  must  cer- 
tainly have  prevailed  ;  and  it  is  that,  which  we  are  now 
to  consider.  Such  a  resemblance  was  a  natural  conse- 
quence of  the  great  preponderating  power  and  political 
influence  of  Athens.  In  the  states  which  were  its  allies, 
liow  much  must  necessarily  have  been  regulated  by  its 
example  !  And  the  little  information  which  we  are  able 
to  collect  respecting  their  revenues,  appears  to  prove  the 
general  resemblance  beyond  a  doubt.  Special  differences 
certainly  existed. 

It  is  to  Aristotle  once  more,  that  we  owe  a  general 
view  of  this  subject.^     After  classifying  the  sources  of 

more  than  5000  talents  (nearly  five  million  dollars)  for  that  purpose.  Isocrat.  de 
Pace,  Op.  p.  179. 

'  We  do  not  find  it  mentioned,  that  the  trierarchies,  which  were  common  in 
Athens,  were  usual  in  the  other  maritime  cities  ;  but  the  rich  doubtless  bore  the 
burden  of  fitting  out  the  ships.     See,  respecting  Corinth,  Thucyd.  1.  c. 

^  Aristot.  de  Re  Familiari,  ii.  1.  This  little  work  is,  probably,  not  by  the 
Staginte.  It  is  a  collection  of  examples  or  excerpta,  where  less  depends  on  Ihe 
author  than  on  the  age  in  which  it  was  written.     Even  its  editor,  Schneider, 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY   OF  THE  GREEKS.  201 

revenue  in  monarchies,  with -respect  to  the  general  no 
less  than  the  provincial  administration/  he  continues  ; 
"  The  third  kind  of  administration,  is  that  of  free  states. 
For  them,  the  principal  source  of  revenue  is  from  the 
produce  of  their  own  soil  ;  the  second  from  merchandise 
and  the  markets  ;  the  third  from  the  contrihutions  paid 
by  the  citizens  in  turn.'"  When  we  learn,  that  these 
last  were  a  sort  of  pro{)erty  tax  for  the  richer  class,  and 
that  the  second  could  have  been  nothing  hut  duties  on 
articles  of  consumption,  we  perceive  at  once,  what  we 
are  soon  to  prove,  that  in  the  Grecian  states,  our  direct 
and  indirect  taxes  were  known  and  introduced,  though 
in  technical  language  the  distinction  was  differently 
made.  The  subject  deserves  to  be  treated  with  closer 
attention. 

In  the  political  economy  of  the  moderns,  the  taxes  on 
lands  and  houses  are  considered  the  most  important  of  all 
direct  taxes.  How  far  had  the  Greeks  the  one  and  the 
other?  They  certainly  were  acquainted  with  both.  "In 
Meuda,"  says  Aristotle,  "  the  common  expenses  of  the 
administration  are  paid  from  the  revenue  derived  from 
the   harljors  and  duties  ;   the  taxes,  on  the   contrary,  on 

concedes  that  it  bears  marks  of  belonging  to  tlie  period  of  the  Persian  empire, 
beinir  at  least  ns  old  ns  Aristotle  or  Alexander.  And  vet  Aristotle  himself  may 
have  made  such  collections;  of  which  one  may  have  rcnclied  ns. 

'  ' TI  ia<M/.iy.i^  and    I,  aaiini:i  ly.i'^.     Wnen  the  Greeks  spoke  of  an  empire,  they 
always  had  in  mind  the  empire  of  Persia. 

'  Tn'iryr  (^t  1 IV  7ii:i'f.iriy.i[y-  Tai'r>^:  (U  ynuTlriT);  tui'  rroi  noAoc,  >]  uno  Ti~iy  iifior  tv 
Ti(  /I'lOr'.  ■/  iy<iiitru)>  ,  fi'ru  I'lT)  iii  71  i)<_iifir  y.m  c^i'  i;;'c.)i  oil',  fira  ?,  i:rii>  twj  iyyi-y'/.iuir. 
It  is  known  from  the  orators,  that  these  last  are  the  burdens  borne  in  turn  by 
the  rich,  Af(ror;i;/'t<'.  ])emosth.  in  I.eptin.  Op  i.  p.  4(13.  If  the  words  A;  ,>;',,',ic))' 
are  correct,  the  public  aamcs  and  as.'-eiublies  are  intended,  with  which  fairs  were 
commonly  connecled,  otiierwise  it  woiild  be  natural  to  conjecture  i'<f/oo.^r  instead 
of  i;  wi  f)i .  The  sense  remains  the  same. 
26 


202  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

lands  and  houses  are  regularly  assessed  ;  but  they  are 
collected  from  those  who  are  bound  to  pay  them,  only  in 
times  of  a  great  want  of  money."  ^  This  example  shows 
very  clearly,  that  the  Greeks  knew  the  practical  differ- 
ence between  direct  and  indirect  taxes  ;  but  it  still  re- 
mains doubtful,  whether  the  tax  on  the  soil  was  a  land 
tax  in  the  modern  sense,  according  to  its  square  contents 
and  quality  ;  or  whether  it  was  a  tax  on  the  raw  produce. 
The  first  is  not  probable.  We  hear  nothing  of  a  register 
of  landed  estates  in  Greece  ;  though  there  existed  such 
an  one  in  the  great  empire  of  Persia.  Where  the  taxes 
are  treated  of,  the  expressions  appear  rather  to  indicate, 
that  a  proportion  of  the  produce  was  paid.  It  was  com- 
monly tithes,  which  were  taken  of  fruits  and  of  cattle  ; 
as  Aristotle  expressly  mentions  in  the  passages  first 
cited."  In  what  desree  these  taxes  were  usual  in  the 
Grecian  cities,  is  nowhere  expressl}'  related ;  nor  do  we 
know  whether  they  were  levied  on  certain  estates,  or  on 
all  lands.  That  they  were  very  common,  is  hardly  doubt- 
ful, since  the  remark  of  Aristotle  is  a  general  one. 

Poll  taxes  were  less  frequently  levied  on  the  citizens 
(though  we  would  not  assert,  that  they  did  not  in  any 
degree  exist  with  respect  to  them),  than  on  the  inquilini 
or  resident  foreigners.  These  formed  in  most  of  the 
Grecian  cities  a  numerous  class  of  inhabitants,  and  were 
obliged  to  pay  for  protection,  a  sum^  which  was  some- 
times a  poll  tax,  and  sometimes  an  impost  on   property. 


'  Anstot  dk  Kfc  faini!  Op.  ii.  393.  Mcnda  was  a  Grecian  city  on  the  coast 
of  Macodonia   not  far  from  Fotidrca. 

''  Coin[)arc  dp  lie  I'^amil    ii.  1. 

■'  7"'i  utrn;y.iij\.  The  regulations  respecting  this,  and  its  amount,  may  be  found 
in  llarpucraliou,  h.  v. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF   THE   GREEKS.  203 

We  know  with  certainty,  that  such  sums  were  paid  by 
the  foreigners  at  Athens. 

However  much  the  practical  politician  may  be  excited 
by  increasing  wants,  to  exert  his  inventive  powers,  the 
character  of  the  state  settles  in  a  certain  measure  the 
kinds  of  taxes.  Where  a  community  imposes  its  own 
taxes,  the  direct  taxes,  and  among  them  those  on  property, 
will  have  the  first  rank.  That  each  citizen,  or  rather, 
that  the  richer  citizens  (for  the  rule  does  not  of  course 
apply  to  the  poorer  classes)  should  share  in  the  public 
burdens  in  proportion  to  their  means,  is  so  natural  an 
idea,  that  it  cannot  but  occur  of  itself.  But  when  we 
consider  the  taxes  on  property  as  forming  the  chief  divi- 
sion, we  must  premise  two  observations  in  connexion 
with  that  remark. 

First :  The  taxes  on  property  were  not  so  regular,  that 
they  were  paid  from  year  to  year  according  to  the  same 
fixed  measure.  The  necessary  sums  were  rather  voted, 
as  circumstances  required  ;  which  also  decided  the  degree 
of  rigor,  with  which  they  were  collected.  Of  this  we 
have  proof  in  very  many  examples  in  Demosthenes  and 
others.^  In  times  of  peace,  whole  years  might  pass 
away,  in  which  no  such  taxes  were  required  to  be  paid  ; 
while  in  others  they  increased  so  much,  that  Isocrates 
could  say,  it  was  almost  better  to  be  a  poor  man  than  a 
rich  one  ;   because  the  poor  were  not  exposed  to  them.^ 

Secondly :  There  were  certain  kinds  of  expenses, 
which  were  not  estimated  at  a  fixed  amount,  but  were 

*  They  were  called  in  Athens  the  ilatfoouL  ;  not  known,  at  least  by  that  name 
in  Athens,  before  the  Peloponnesian  war.  Bocckh  ii.  4.  No  one  will  doubt, 
that  they  were  introduced  into  other  cities,  though  under  different  names 

^  Isocrat.  de  Pace.  Op.  p.  185. 


204  CHAPTER   TEiNlli. 

too  considerable  to  be  borne  by  any  but  the  opulent ;  we 
mean  those  offices  which  each  citizen  was  obliged  to 
perform  in  his  turn,  and  at  his  own  expense,  (Aftrovoy/«t),i 
To  this  class  belonged  partly  the  charge  of  the  public 
festivals  and  shows,  banquets  and  bands  of  music  con- 
nected with  them  ;  and  partly,  at  least  in  Athens,  and 
probably  in  other  maritime  towns,  the  fitting  out  of  the 
galleys.  The  first  class  of  these  expenses,  was  by.  its 
nature  a  permanent  one  ;  and  the  other  was  almost, 
though  not  perfectly  so.  They  were  borne  by  the  citi- 
zens in  rotation  ;  and  those  who  were  free  one  year, 
were  obliged  to  defray  them  the  next.  But  they,  espe- 
cially the  first,  were  the  more  oppressive,  as  they  were 
not  fixed  at  any  certain  amount  ;  but  depended  not 
mf;rely  on  the  wants  of  the  state,  but  the  pride  of  him 
who  supplied  them. 

Taxes  on  property  are  attended  with  one  great  diffi- 
culty, that  they  cannot  be  apportioned  out  without  a 
knowledge  of  the  fortunes  of  each  contributor.  But 
they  depend  also  more  tlian  any  other  on  correctness  of 
moral  sentiment  and  on  public  spirit.  Where  these  exist, 
(and  they  can  nowhere  more  prevail,  than  in  such  civil 
communities  as  the  Grecian  states,)  there  is  no  need  of 
returns  on  the  part  of  those  who  are  to  be  taxed,  nor  of 
any  inquisition  on  the  part  of  the  state.  Confidence  is 
reposed  in  the  conscience  of  the  contributor  ;  and  exam- 
ples may  be  found  in  history,  of  states  in  which  even  a 
suspicion  of  any  insincerity  was  almost  unheard  of.^     In 

'  In  the  brr)adoi3t  sense  ;  in  so  far  as  the  word  comprehends  not  only  ihe  fitting 
out  of  the  sliips  (T^^n/ujo/iui),  but  also  tlie  charge  of  the  chorus  {/<>Q>;y''ai),  and 
the  gymnastic  games  (yrtn\iaiaOy^'iui). 

-  As  in  several  of  the  late  German  imperial  towns.  The  author  is  acquainted 
with  one.  in  which  the  contribations  were  thrown  into  a  bo.x,  unexamined;  and 


0 
POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS       205 

the  Grecian  cities,  at  least  in  Athens,  verj  severe  meas- 
ures were  in  the  later  periods  made  use  of  against  those, 
who  were  suspected  of  concealing  the  true  state  of  their 
fortunes,  or  whom  it  was  desired  to  vex  in  that  manner. 
They  could  be  compelled  to  exchange  their  property  for 
the  sum  at  which  they  had  estimated  it.^  But  in  better 
times,  such  measures,  though  perhaps  permitted,  seem 
never  to  have  been  usual.  A  division  was  made  into 
classes  according  to  the  income  ;  such  as  had  been  estab- 
lished in  Athens,  by  the  regulations  of  Solon.  These 
classes  presupposed  an  estimate  of  property;-  but 
whether  this  was  made  in  the  Grecian  cities  as  accurately 
as  the  census  of  the  Romans,  is  a  question  which  we 
must  leave  undecided.^ 

The  indirect  taxes,  by  which  we  mean  the  duties  paid 
on  the  importation  and  exportation  of  articles,  as  also  on 
their  consumption,  were  probably  as  common  in  the 
Grecian  cities,  as  those  above  mentioned.  The  instance 
of  the  city  Menda,  which  we  have  already  cited,  shows 
that  they  were  preferred,  at  least  in  some  instances  to 
the  direct  taxes.  Much  that  related  to  them,  was  decided 
by  the  situation  and  chief  employment  of  the  cities.  The 
duties  were  naturally  a  much  more  productive  source  of 

yet  the  amount  of  the  whole  was  previously  known,  with  alinosi  perfect  exact- 
ness. 

'  The  uyTiiy,r,iiQ.     See,  on  tliis  subject,  the  speech  of  Isocrates,  Op.  p.  ?>\'Z,  etc. 

^  TiKJi'K,  Demosth.  in  Aphob.  Orat.  i.  Op.  ii.  p.  3,  etc. 

^  In  some  of  the  cities,  great  accuracv  seems  to  have  prevailed  in  this  business. 
Thus  in  Chios,  all  private  debts  were  entered  in  a  public  book,  so  that  it  mig-ht ' 
be  known,  what  capital  was  lent  out.  Aristot.  Op.  ii.  p.  nOO.  In  the  Athenian 
colony  Potida?a,  in  a  time  of  war,  when  money  was  wanting,  every  citizen  was 
obliged  to  specify  his  property  with  exactness,  and  the  contributions  (ilaifonal) 
were  apportioned  out  accordingly  He  who  posse.'^sed  no  pioperty,  y.n'iia  o?  I'tv, 
paid  a  poll  tnx  ;  his  person  being  reckoned  as  a  capital  of  two  mince  ("about  thirty 
dollars),  ho  paid  the  tax  due  on  such  a  sum.     Aristot.  1.  c. 


206  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

revenue  to  the  maritime  and  commercial  towns,  than  to 
the  cities  of  the  interior.  But  where  these  taxes  were 
introduced,  thej  were  a  constant  source  of  income  ;  while 
the  taxes  on  property  were  each  time  imposed  anew. 
From  this  it  naturally  resulted,  that  they  were  chiefly 
destined  to  meet  the  usual  expenditures. 

Our  knowledge  of  the  organization  of  the  Grecian 
customs,  is  very  imperfect.  Yet  we  cannot  doubt,  that 
duties  were  almost  universally  common.  But  they  were 
most  probably  limited  to  the  seaports  and  harbors  ;  in 
connexion  with  these,  they  are  almost  always  mentioned  ;^ 
1  know  of  no  instance  of  customs  in  the  interior.  They 
were,  according  to  Aristotle,  levied  on  imported  and  ex- 
ported articles.^  In  Athens,  the  customs  are  frequently 
mentioned  by  the  orators  ;  in  Thessaly  they  formed  the 
chief  source  of  the  revenue  f  and  they  were  not  of  less 
moment  in  Macedonia. "*  When  the  Athenians  became 
the  masters  of  the  ^^gean  sea,  they  appropriated  to 
themselves,  in  all  subject  islands,  the  collecting  of  the 
customs,  instead  of  the  tribute  which  had  before  been 
usual.*  The  same  was  done  with  the  very  productive 
customs  of  Byzantium,  which  all  the  commerce  to  the 
Black  sea  was  obliged  to  discharge,^  just  as  the  commerce 
to  the  East  sea  has  hitherto  been  obliged  to  pay  a  tribute 
in  the  Sound.  This  comparison  is  the  more  just,  as  the 
di!ti(}s  of  Byzantium,  no  less  than  those  in  the  sound, 
liav(3  been  the  occasion  even  of  a  war." 

'  llcnce  tlii^  phrase  Xiunag  y.annovat^ai,to  collect  the  customs  in  the  harbors,  De- 
inostlien.  i.  15. 

-   Aristot.  1.  c.   Tu  fiaaywy uia  y.cu  ru  i'layotynia. 

3  Demo-^th.  1.  c. 

•*  They  were  commonly  rented  out  in  that  country  for  twenty  talents  ;  which 
sum  C'allistrntus  knew  how  to  double.     Aristot.  Op.  ii.  p.  393. 

•■'  Tluicyil.  iv.  ::i-.  ^  Dcmosth.  Op.  i.  p.  475. 

"   .Namely  b(>tween  Byzintiuin  'uid  Rhodes. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF  THE   GREEKS.  207 

These  examples,  of  which  the  number  could  easily  be 
increased,  are  quite  sufficient  to  prove,  that  duties  were 
very  generally  exacted  in  the  seaports.  The  principle, 
according  to  which  the  customs  were  regulated,  had  no- 
thing in  view  but  the  increase  of  the  public  revenue  ; 
and  no  design  was  connected  with  them,  of  encouraging 
and  directing  domestic  industry.  At  least  we  have  never 
been  able  to  find  any  hint  to  that  effect.  But  the  tariff 
seems  to  have  been  very  different  in  the  several  cities, 
and  for  the  different  articles  of  merchandise.  At  Byzan- 
tium, the  duty  was  ten  per  cent,  on  the  value  of  the 
wares.^  The  Athenians,  on  the  contrary,  when  they 
imposed  duties  in  the  harbors  of  their  allies  during  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  exacted  only  five  per  cent.^  In 
Athens  itself,  there  were,  at  least  in  the  time  of  Demos- 
thenes, several  articles  which  paid  a  duty  of  but  two  per 
cent.^  To  this  class  belonged  all  corn  introduced  into 
Athens  f  and  several  other  objects,  such  as  fine  woollen 
garments  and  vessels  of  silver.^ 

We  distinguish  in  our  system  of  finances  between  du- 
ties on  importation  and  exportation,  and  taxes  on  domes- 
tic consumption.'^  It  may  be  asked,  if  this  was  also 
the  case  in  Greece  ?  I  do  not  doubt  that  it  was  ;  but 
in  the  Grecian  cities,  as  in  Rome  and  perhaps  in  the 
whole  of  the  ancient  world,  these  taxes  were  imposed  in 
but  one  very  simple  form.     They  were   connected   with 

'  Demosth.  Op.  i.  p.  475. 

'^  Thucyd.  vii.  28. 

•*  This  is  the   TTtvTyixoaroXvyog  u7ToyQu(pl,   the  tariff  of  the  fiftieth  penny.     De- 
mosth. in  Mid.  Op.  i.  p.  558. 

*  Demosth.  in  Ncacr.  Op.  ii.  p.  ]353 

5  Demosth.  in  Mid.  Op.  i.  p.  508,  enumerates  several. 

''  Such  as  the  excise,  licenses,  etc. 


208  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

the  markets.  Whatever  was  there  offered  for  sale,  paid  a 
duty  ;  and  hence  this  duty  is  mentioned  only  with  refer- 
ence to  the  markets.^  And  I  find  no  proof,  that  the 
system  of  taxing  consumption,  was  carried  so  far  in 
any  ancient  state,  as  it  has  been  in  several  modern 
countries.^ 

Beside  the  taxes  already  enumerated,  there  were  other 
particular  ones  on  various  articles  of  luxury.  Thus  in 
Lycia  a  tax  was  paid  for  wearing  false  hair;^  in  Ephesus, 
ornaments  of  gold  were  prohibited  and  the  women  order- 
ed to  give  them  up  to  the  state.  Examples  are  pre- 
served by  Aristotle,  where  in  cases  of  necessity,  single 
cities  adopted  various  extraordinary  measures,  such  as 
the  sale  of  the  public  estates,^  the  sale  of  the  privilege  of 
citizenship,  taxes  on  several  professions  and  employ- 
ments,^ as  of  soothsayers  and  quacks,  and  monopolies,  of 
which  the  state  possessed  itself  for  a  season. 

In  all  the  Grecian  cities,  tiie  indirect  taxes,  especially 
the  duties,  were  most  probably  farmed.  Thc^  custom  of 
farming  the  revenue  prevailed  in  a  much  greater  degree 
ill  several  of  the  monarchical  states  of  antiquity  ;  in  the 
Grecian  repu])lics,  it  seems  to  have  been  restricted  to  the 

In  Al'istot.  ii.  p.  36"^.  /^  unii  T(''I  y.uTu  y I'v  Tf  y.al  ir/onuum  Tf/.Ai  rrnoao^cg. 
IT(Mico  the  expression  ;  t«-  ("--/oouc  ;^f;o,7oOci^a(  to  collect  the  rcvcnve  from  the  mar- 
lets.      Deiuns'h.  (Jlvnth.  i.  Op.  i.  p.  15. 

"  111  I'aUylon,  there  I'xisled  an  antiquated  law  wliich  was  renewed  hj-  the  jjov- 
enuir  app'tintccl  l)y  Alexander,  and  wiiich  required  that  a  tithe  should  be  paid  of 
ever)  tliinn-  brouo-lit  into  the  cit\-.     Aristot.  0]).  ii    p.  3!!5. 

'~   Aiistoi.  Oicnii.  ii.  0]).  ii.  p.  3?."). 

•1  1'y  the  I'y/.antinns.  Aristot.  1.  c.  p.  ?>i?i.  That  which  follows  is  also  related 
by  !iiin  ill  tlie  same  place. 

.\  (;riiiM-al  income  tax  of  ten  per  cent,  on  all  employments,  was  la'd  bv  king 
Tnclms  in  Ivryjjt.  at  IIk^  instance  of  Cliabrias.  Arislot,  1.  c  p.  3;'4.  Though 
r.\i  cut!  d  in  I  :jvf)t.  the  idea  was  that  of  a  Greek  ;  and  Pitt  must  resign  his  claim 
to  the  invention  of  the  Income  tax. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY   OF  THE  GREEKS.  209 

indirect  taxes.  It  is  generally  known,  that  in  Athens 
the  duties  were  farmed ;  but  the  same  was  the  case  in 
Byzantium,  in  Macedonia,  and  in  other  places.^  De- 
mosthenes distinguishes  three  classes  of  persons  who 
were  interested  in  this  transaction  ;  those  who  rented 
this  branch  of  the  revenue  ;  their  bondsmen ;  and  the 
inspectors  and  receivers.^  It  would  be  superfluous  to 
speak  of  the  great  evils  of  this  arrangement ;  but  has  it 
not  been  preserved  by  much  larger  states  in  modern 
Europe  ? 

One  important  question  still  remains  :  In  the  Grecian 
cities,  who  had  the  right  of  fixing  the  taxes  ?  The  po- 
litical science  of  the  moderns  has  regarded  it  as  one  of 
the  most  important  points,  as  the  peculiar  characteristic 
of  a  free  constitution,  that  the  government  should  not  be 
permitted  to  impose  taxes  without  the  consent  of  the 
people,  given  directly,  or  by  consent  of  its  deputies.  In 
most  of  the  ancient  republics,  tiie  same  custom  probably 
prevailed  ;  yet  it  is  remarkable  that  no  particular  value 
was  ever  set  upon  this  privilege ;  and  much  less  was  it 
ever  considered  a  criterion  of  political  liberty.  The 
whole  system  of  taxation,  we  have  already  remarked, 
was  not  viewed  from  the  same  elevated  point  which  is 
now  taken ;  nor  can  this  principle  be  fully  developed, 
except  where  the  representative  system  is  introduced. 
But  properly  speaking,  the  whole  subject  was  considered 
by  the  Greeks  from  a  very  different  side.  Their  magis- 
trates were  bound  to  acknowledge  the  obligation  of  lay- 
ing  their  accounts   before    the  people.     This  was   the 

•  See  the  passages  cited  above,  which  prove  tliis. 

'  Demosth.  Op.  i.  p,  745.  rikog  n  noiuucro:,  '>]  iyyvr.auuiyog,  >;  lyJJyon.  Those 
who  rented  the  taxes  of  the  state,  were  of  course  obhged  to  procure  safe  bonds- 
men. 

27 


210  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

characteristic  of  freedom.^  Where  this  right  is  preserved 
by  the  people,  it  is  of  much  less  importance  by  whom 
the  taxes  are  imposed. 

But  this  question  hardly  admits  of  a  general  answer 
in  the  Grecian  cities.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
difference  of  constitutions  produced  differences  in  this 
matter  ;  but  if  from  the  w^ant  of  documents  this  is  only  a 
conjecture,  it  is  on  the  other  hand  certain,  that  the  differ- 
ence of  the  taxes  must  have  produced  such  a  variety. 

Tlie  regular  and  abiding  taxes  were  fixed  by  laws  ; 
which  in  part  were  expressly  called  ancient  laws.^  The 
sum  which  was  allotted  in  Athens  for  the  annual  expense 
of  the  public  sacrifices,  was  fixed  by  the  laws  of  Solon  at 
six  talents.^  For  this  purpose,  no  other  appropriations 
were  needed.  The  tariffs  of  the  duties  and  taxes  on 
consumption  were  in  like  manner  [)ermanent  laws,  which, 
as  iheir  very  names  indicate,"^  were  doubtless  granted  by 
tlie  ])eo|)le  ;  who  of  course  had  the  right  of  making  altera- 
tions in  them.  Those  public  charges,  which  were  borne 
in  turn,  the  trierarchi(>s  and  the  providing  of  the  Chorus, 
w(Me  also  established  by  ancient  laws  ;^  although  these 
oftices,  especially  the  first,  were,  from  their  very  nature, 
much  influenced  by  the  circumstances  of  the  times  ;  and 
licnco  tliey  underwent  greater  and  more  frequent  changes 
than  any  other  imposts.  Thai  these  regulations  and  their 
chanixc^s  could  not  be  made  \^ithout  the  consent  of  the 
])Copl(^,  p.  ill  not  be  doubted  by  any  one,  who  knows  that 
(  v(Mv  thing  which  the  Greeks  called  a  law,  i<V'o;,  could 
proceed  from  no  other  fountain. 

'    Sec  nliovo.  p.  171.  -  Deinosth.  Op.  i.  p,  4G2. 

■*   S:'C   I.vsias  ill  .Nicoiiiach,  Or.  fir.  v    p.  Soft. 

*   \>uui.  li'/.un  ly.ui.     Demostli.  i.  p.  7u2.  ^  Demosth.  p  i.  4(J2. 


POLITICAL   ECONOMY   OF   THE  GREEKS.  211 

But  what  were  the  regulations  respecting  those  extra- 
ordinary imposts,  which  were  hardly  less  than  permanent, 
those  taxes  on  property,  which  we  comprehend  under 
the  name  of  tribute  (^eiacfOQui')  ?  That  these  should  have 
been  fixed  exclusively  by  the  people,  seems  so  natural  in 
states  where  the  highest  authority  is  possessed  by  a  pop- 
ular assembly,  that  it  may  be  thought  superfluous  to  sug- 
gest this  question.  Yet  we  know  that  it  was  not  so  in 
Rome  ;  where  the  taxes  were  fixed,  not  by  the  people, 
but  solely  by  the  senate.  But  in  Athens,  as  we  may 
learn  from  any  one  of  the  political  orations  of  Demos- 
thenes, the  taxes  needed  always  to  be  confirmed  by  the 
people.  It  would  be  too  hasty  to  infer  from  Athens,  that 
the  same  was  true  of  all  ihe  other  Grecian  states.  But 
wherever  the  financial  regulations  of  the  other  states  are 
mentioned  (unless  they  were  in  subjection  to  a  tyrant'), 
it  is  always  done  in  expressions  which  authorize  the  con- 
clusion, that  the  consent  of  the  people  or  the  assembly  of 
the  citizens  was  necessary.^ 

So  much  the  greater  variety  seems  to  have  prevailed 
in  the  administration  of  the  public  revenue,  not  only  in 
the  several  states,  but  also  at  different  periods  in  the 
same  state.  Those  places  and  offices  which  were  con- 
nected   with    that    administration,    were    naturally    the 

'  Where  tyrants  had  possessed  themselves  of  the  government,  they  imposed 
taxes  at  their  own  pleasure,  as  they  were  not  i.tsiMlio!  ;  they  also  adopted 
various  artifices  to  increase  their  revenue,  such  as  debasing  the  coin,  &c.  of 
which  Aristotle,  fficon.  L.  ii.  has  preserved  various  examples.  But  where  they 
desired  to  preserve  an  appearance  of  decency,  as  Dionysius  1.  in  Syracuse,  who 
in  other  respects  took  so  many  liberties,  this  matter  was  laid  by  them  before  the 
ixxAtoiu.     Aristot.  1.  c. 

^  In  the  examples  which  Aristot.  1.  c.  cites  of  Clazomene,  Potidaea,  and  other 
places,  his  phrase  is  twr^tf  InaiTo,  or  sometimes  njuoi'  H^rTo,  which,  it  is  well 
known,  can  be  understood  only  of  the  decrees  of  the  people. 


212  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

objects  of  the  greatest  competition  ;  and  this  alone  would 
be  sufficient  to  explain  the  changes  which  were  made. 
But  must  not  the  difference  of  the  constitutions  have  ex- 
ercised its  influence  ?  In  states,  of  which  certain  fami- 
lies, distinguished  for  their  wealth  and  descent,  had 
made  themselves  the  leaders,  what  could  be  expected, 
but  that  the  J  should  obtain  the  management  of  the  pub- 
lic money  ?  In  the  two  principal  cities  of  Greece,  the 
most  remarkable  difference  is  perceptible.  At  Athens, 
the  council  of  five  hundred  had  the  care  of  the  public 
money  ;  in  Sparta,  this  had  been  secured  by  the  Ephori. 
A  great  difference  may  be  supposed  to  have  prevailed  in 
the  other  Grecian  cities  ;  certainly  with  respect  to  the 
persons  who  held  the  offices  of  collectors  and  account- 
ants. But  we  have  almost  no  historical  information 
respecting  any  place  but  Athens. 

Of  all  forms  of  government,  those  of  free  cities  are 
perhaps  the  least  adapted  to  the  developing  of  an  artifi- 
cial system  of  finances.  For  in  them  the  wants,  and  the 
means  of  satisfying  those  wants,  are  commonly  very  sim- 
ple. Changes  are  difficult ;  for  they  presuppose  the 
consent  of  the  commonalty.  They  who  propose  them, 
can  hardly  expect  thanks ;  but  rather  hatred,  and  even 
persecution.  Hence  ancient  usage  is  preserved  as  much 
as  possible ;  and  when  extraordinary  wants  occur,  re- 
course is  had  to  extraordinary  measures,  concerted  for 
the  moment,  rather  than  to  any  change  in  the  existing 
institutions.  It  is  different  in  extensive  monarchies, 
where  every  thing  moves  more  firmly  and  more  regu- 
larly: and  though  their  practice  is  not  so  much  founded 
on  scientific  views  as  on  certain  maxims,  still  it  is  in 
them,  that  an  artificial  system  of  finances  can  be  formed. 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  233 


CHAPTER  XI. 


THE   JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS. 

Unlike  the  regulations  of  our  modern  states,  the 
judiciary  department  did  not  form  in  Greece  a  distinct, 
independent  branch  of  the  constitution.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  was  so  intimately  connected  with  the  rest,  that 
it  can  with  difficulty  be  made  a  separate  object  of  in- 
vestigation. Hardly  any  subject  in  Grecian  antiquities 
is  so  intricate,  or  so  difficult  of  explanation ;  and  yet 
without  a  knowledge  of  it,  no  correct  view  of  the  an- 
cient states  can  possibly  be  formed.  Our  present  object 
is,  to  develope  the  general  character  of  the  judical  insti- 
tutions, without  entering  into  particulars  respecting  the 
organization  of  the  Attic  courts.  All  that  we  have  to 
say  upon  this  subject,  will  find  a  place  in  our  inquiries 
concerning  that  state. 

The  want  of  accounts  is  the  chief  but  not  the  only 
source  of  the  difficulty,  which  attends  this  investigation 
with  respect  to  every  state  but  Athens.  From  the  want 
of  uniformity,  as  well  as  the  foreign  character  of  many 
of  the  regulations,  it  would  be  arduous  to  take  a  general 
survey  of  the  subject,  even  if  the  historical  documents 
were  abundant.  To  gain  a  correct  view  of  it,  some  at- 
tention must  be  paid  to  its  history. 

The  judicial  institutions  of  the  Greeks,  were  the  cre- 
ation of  time  and  circumstances.  The  form,  therefore, 
which  they  eventually  assumed,  could   not  well  corres- 


214  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

pond  to  the  requisitions  of  a  theory.  We  are  forced  to 
content  ourselves  on  many  points  with  saying  that  it  was 
so ;  without  being  able  to  give  any  satisfactory  reasons 
why  it  was  so. 

The  judicial  institutions  of  a  nation  proceed  from  very 
simple  beginnings.  Where  they  are  left  to  be  devel- 
oped by  circumstances  and  the  necessities  of  the  times, 
they  cannot  but  become  more  and  more  intricate  ;  since 
with  the  progress  of  culture,  new  relations  arise,  both 
at  home  and  with  foreign  countries.  In  the  heroic 
age,  kings  sat  on  the  tribunals  of  justice,  though  even 
then  arbitrators  were  not  unusual.  There  existed  at 
that  time  no  written  laws  ;  questions  were  decided  by 
prescription,  and  good  common  sense,  directed  by  a  love 
of  justice. 

When  nations  begin  to  emerge  from  the  rude  con- 
dition of  savages,  the  first  necessity  which  is  felt,  is 
that  of  personal  security,  and  next  the  security  of  prop- 
erty. National  legislation  has  always  commenced  with 
the  criminal  code  and  the  police  laws  ;  the  rights  of 
citizens  were  defined  more  slowly,  and  at  a  later  pe- 
riod ;  because  it  was  not  sooner  necessary.  The  oldest 
courts  of  justice  were  established  very  early,  probably 
in  the  times  of  the  kings.  Their  immediate  object 
was  to  pass  judgment  on  the  crime  of  murder,  and 
other  iieiiious  offences.  This  was  the  case  with  the 
Areopagus,  the  most  ancient  court  with  which  the 
Greeks  were  acquainted  ;  and  others  were  of  almost  as 
great  an  age. 

The  royal  governments  passed  away  ;  and  the  pop- 
ular assemblies  took  their  place.  The  existing  courts 
ol  justice  were   then  by  no   means  abolished ;  although 


JUDICIAL   INSTITUTIONS.  215 

in  the  progress  of  time,  and  amidst  the  revolutions  in  the 
forms  of  government,  they  could  not  but  undergo  various 
modifications. 

In  the  states  of  modern  Europe,  the  form  of  the  judi- 
cial institutions  was  in  a  great  measure  the  result  of  the 
form  of  the  feudal.  In  the  latter  there  were  different 
degrees  of  fealty  and  submission  ;  and  hence  arose  the 
principle,  that  no  man  can  be  tried  by  any  but  his  peers. 
Thus  a  difference  in  the  courts  was  necessarily  produced. 
The  immediate  vassal  of  the  crown  recognised  only  those 
for  his  judges,  who  stood  in  the  same  rank  with  himself, 
and  owed  fealty  to  the  same  master.  The  freeman  and 
the  villain  could  not  stand  before  the  same  tribunal. 

The  same  principle,  that  a  man  must  be  tried  by  his 
peers,  prevailed  among  the  Greeks.  But  its  application 
must  have  produced  very  different  results.  The  commu- 
nitv  consisted  of  citizens,  who  either  were  or  claimed  to 
be  equal.  It  discussed  all  affairs  relating  to  itself,  and 
hence  actions  at  law  among  the  rest.  Thus  the  common 
assembly  performed  the  office  of  judges  ;  and  the  founda- 
tion of  the  popular  courts  of  justice  was  laid.  A  political 
notion  now  prevailed,  a  notion  never  adopted  in  our 
modern  constitutions  ;  that  it  was  essential  for  a  citizen 
to  take  a  part  in  the  administration  of  justice.  Even  in 
those  of  our  modern  states  which  in  so  many  things  re- 
semble the  Grecian,  the  German  imperial  cities,  this 
idea  could  never  have  been  suggested  and  applied.  They 
had  adopted  the  laws  of  an  ancient  nation,  written  in  an 
ancient  language  ;  and  to  understand  them,  much  learn- 
ing was  required,  of  which  not  every  one  could  be  pos- 
sessed. It  was  not  so  in  Greece.  The  laws  were  in 
the  language  of  the  country  ;   and  although  their  number 


216  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

gradually  increased,  they  were  still  accessible  to  all. 
Neither  was  it  necessary  to  retain  them  in  memory,  and 
have  them  always  present  to  the  mind.  The  orator 
during  his  speech,  had  a  reader  at  his  side  with  a  copy  of 
them.  Whenever  he  referred  to  any  law,  it  was  read 
aloud  ;  as  is  proved  by  a  multitude  of  examples  in  De- 
mosthenes and  others.  Every  thing  was,  however, 
transacted  orally.  The  judges  were  not  obliged  to 
peruse  written  documents ;  they  listened,  and  gave  in 
their  votes. 

All  this  appears  very  simple,  and  easy  to  be  understood. 
And  yet  the  Judicial  institutions  of  Greece,  if  we  should 
form  our  opinion  from  one  state,  were  so  confused,  that 
it  is  difficult  for  the  most  learned  antiquarians  to  find 
their  way  out  of  the  labyrinth.  The  greatest  errors  are 
made  by  those,  who,  forgetting  that  the  institutions  in 
question  were  not  formed  systematically,  but  practically 
with  the  progress  of  time,  endeavor  to  find  the  means 
of  explanation  in  speculative  ideas. 

The  first  and  most  important  difficulty  is  presented 
when  we  attempt  to  fix  the  characteristic  difference  be- 
tween the  public  and  private  courts.  This  difference 
was  not  only  general  in  the  existing  states,  but  was 
adopted  by  Plato  himself  in  his  sketch  of  a  perfect 
colony.^  These  two  classes  were  so  distinctly  separated, 
that  different  expressions  were  appropriated,  not  only  for 
the  general,  but  even  the  particular  relations  of  the  one 
and  the  other.- 

'  Plato  de  Logg.  L.  vi.  vol.  iv.  p.  2S2. 

"  A  public  accusation  was  called  ynacfS^  and  x«Tj;yoo(a,  to  accuse  any  one 
(^M.,>rfii,  to  be  accused  cjtt'yfn  Tiv  y'j'i<pi','-  A  private  suit  was  called  6 ixtj,  to 
bring  an  action  f("n,;-/£Ji  and  iiaifinur  rivl  yty.i]y,  io  be  defendant  ogifiV.ttr  Ttvi 
t'^iy.ir.     Such  were  the  expressions  at  least  in  Athens. 


JUDICIAL   INSTITUTIONS.  217 

Certain  general  ideas,  according  to  which  Plato  makes 
the  distinction,  lay  at  the  bottom  of  this  division.  "  One 
class  of  judicial  processes,"  says  he,^  "  is  formed  of  the 
suits  which  one  private  man,  complaining  of  injustice, 
brings  against  another.  The  second  class,  on  the  con- 
trary, is,  when  the  state  believes  itself  injured  by  one  of 
the  citizens,  or  when  a  citizen  comes  forward  to  its  as- 
sistance." According  to  this  explanation,  nothing  would 
seem  simpler,  than  the  difference  between  public  and 
private  processes.  But  if  we  compare  the  objects  com- 
prehended under  each  of  the  two  classes,  we  shall  find 
many  things  enumerated  as  affairs  of  the  state,  which  to 
us  do  not  seem  to  belong  to  this  class. ^  Of  this,  two 
causes  may  be  mentioned. 

The  first  is  the  view  which  the  Greeks  entertained  of 
the  relation  of  the  individual  citizen  to  the  state.  The 
person  of  the  citizen  was  highly  valued  ;  and  could  not 
but  be  highly  valued,  because  the  whole  personal  condi- 
tion was  affected  by  the  possession  of  citizenship.  An 
injury  done  to  a  private  citizen,  was  therefore  in  some 
measure  an  injury  inflicted  on  the  state  ;  and  so  far, 
almost  every  injustice  suffered  by  the  individual,  was  a 
public  concern.  Yet  a  difference  existed  even  here,  ac- 
cording to  the  degree  of  the  injury  ;  nor  was  it  indifferent, 
whether  the  rights  of  person,  or  only  those  of  property 
had  been  violated. 

A  second   circumstance   also   had  its  influence  ;   pre- 

'  Plato  1.  c. 

^  In  Athens,  e.  g.  there  belonged  to  this  class,  besides  several  other  offences, 
murder,  intentional  wounds,  adultery,  &c.  The  public  and  private  processes  are 
enumerated  in  Sigonius  de  Repub.  Athen.  L.  iii.,  and  may  be  found  also  in  Pot- 
ter's Archoiol.  Graic.  The  subject  is  investigated  by  Otto  :  De  Atheniensium 
Actionibus  forensibus;  Specimen  1.  ch.  ii.  Leipsiae,  le20. 
28 


218  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

scription  for  the  most  part  determined  what  was  a  crime 
against  the  public,  and  what  was  but  a  private  concern. 
But  what  had  once  been  established  by  prescription,  was 
ever  after  valid  as  a  law.  Yet  who  can  discover  all  the 
causes,  perhaps  frequently  accidental,  by  which  various 
suits  came  to  be  considered  in  one  age  or  another,  as 
affairs  of  the  public? 

It  would  be  ineifectual  to  attempt  to  draw  very  accu- 
rately the  line  of  division  according  to  the  subjects. 
The  most  numerous  and  the  most  important,  but  not  all 
criminal  cases  were  regarded  as  public  concerns.  This 
class  embraced  not  merely  offences  against  the  state  ; 
though  this  idea  lay  at  the  foundation.  We  must  rather 
be  content  with  saying,  that  prescription  had  caused 
certain  offences  to  be  regarded  as  public,  and  others  as 
private  matters.  The  regulations  respecting  them,  were, 
however,  in  the  Attic  law  very  exact ;  and  it  was  firmly 
estal)lished,  which  processes  belonged  to  the  state,  and 
which  to  individuals. 

The  character  of  the  two  classes  was  essentially  dis- 
tinguished by  this  ;  that  in  the  public  affairs,  a  complaint 
might  be  made  by  any  citizen  ;  and  in  the  private,  it 
could  be  made  only  by  the  injured  person,  or  his  nearest 
relation;^  for  in  the  one  case,  the  state  or  the  whole 
community  was  regarded  as  the  injured  party  ;  in  the 
other,  only  the  individual. 

But  whoever  brought  the  suit,  it  was  necessary  in  pri- 
vate and  public  concerns  for  the  complainant  to  enter  his 
complaint  before  a  magistrate,  and  definitely  state  the 
offence,  which  he  charged    against  the   accused.     The 

'    See  the  proofs  in  Sigonius,  1.  c. 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  219 

magistrate,  before  Avhom  the  suit  was  thus  commenced, 
was  now  obliged  to  prepare  the  action,  so  that  it  could 
be  submitted  to  the  judges.  These  judges  were  either 
the  whole  community,  or  some  particular  courts,  which 
may  perhaps  be  best  denominated,  committees  of  the 
people.  For  the  tribunals  consisted  for  the  most  part  of 
very  numerous  assemblies,  the  members  of  which  were 
selected  from  the  citizens  by  lot,  and  were  required  to  be 
thirty  years  old,  of  a  good  reputation,  and  not  indebted 
to  the  state.  They  were  sworn  to  do  their  duty  ;  they 
listened  to  the  orators,  both  the  accusers  and  the  defend- 
ants, to  whom  a  limited  time  was  appointed  ;  the  wit- 
nesses were  examined,  and  the  affair  so  far  brought  to  a 
close,  that  the  court  could  pronounce  its  sentence  of 
guilty  or  not  guilty.^  In  the  first  case,  the  nature  of  the 
punishment  remained  to  be  settled.  Where  this  was 
fixed  by  law,  sentence  was  immediately  passed  ;  did  the 
nature  of  the  offence  render  that  impossible,  the  defend- 
ant was  permitted  to  estimate  the  punishment,  of  which 
he  believed  himself  deserving  ;  and  the  court  then  de- 
cided. 

Those  courts  were  therefore  similar  both  in  their 
organization  and  design  to  our  juries  ;  with  this  differ- 
ence, that  the  latter  are  with  us  but  twelve  in  number, 
while  the  former  were  not  unfrequently  composed  of 
several  hundreds.  And  this  is  not  astonishing,  for  they 
occupied  the  place  of  the  whole  community,  or  might  be 
regarded  as  committees  of  the  same  ;  for  when  suits 
began  to  grow  frequent,  the  community  could  not  always 
be  assembled.     But  where  the  members  that  constituted 

'  This  was  done  in  Athens  partly  by  votes  written  on  small  tablets,  and  partly 
by  white  and  black  beans. 


220  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

the  tribunal  were  so  numerous,  as  in  the  Helieea  at 
Athens,  it  is  hardly  credible,  that  every  action  was  tried 
before  the  whole  assembly.  It  is  much  more  probable, 
especially  when  suits  were  multiplied,  that  the  same 
court  of"  judicature  had  several  divisions,  in  which  the 
trial  of  several  causes  could  proceed  simultaneously.^ 

As  a  difference  was  made  between  private  and  public 
actions,  we  might  expect  to  find  different  tribunals  for 
the  one  and  the  other.  Yet  this  was  not  the  case;  suits 
of  both  kinds  could  be  entered  in  the  same  courts.  The 
difference  must  therefore  have  lain  in  the  methods  of 
trial  and  the  legal  remedies,^  which  the  two  parties  could 
employ.  We  are  astonished  to  find,  that  the  rules  re- 
s})(;cting  what  suits  should  come  before  each  particular 
court  were  so  uncertain,  that  it  would  be  vain  for  us  to 
attempt  to  settle  any  general  principles  on  the  subject. 
But  at  this  moment  we  have  in  England  an  example, 
which  shows  how  vain  it  is  to  expect  exact  regulations, 
where  courts  of  justice  have  been  formed  and  enlarged 
by  ciicujiistances.  Criminal  cases,  it  is  true,  belong  ex- 
(;liisiv(>ly  to  the  court  of  the  King's  Bench  ;  but  it  shares 
ci\il  actions  with  the  court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  the 
court  of  ExcluHjuer,  in  such  a  manner,  that,  with  few 
exceptions,  certain  classes  of  suits  cannot  be  said  to 
belong  exclusively  to  either  of  these  tribunals. 

Our  remarks  thus  far  on  the  organization  of  the  courts 
aj)ply  immediately  to  Athens  ;    but  they  will,   without 

'  Wo  would  not  sny,  tlint,  nil  trials  were  necessarily  brought  before  tliose 
courts.  In  Athens  the  police  officers  liad  a  jurisdiction  of  their  own;  and  affairs 
bclonoing  to  their  department  appear  to  have  been  immediately  decided  by 
thrm, 

2  As  e.  (T.  the  ;uiociyou(f [.  the  rnwiioaiu,  and  others,  in  the  public  trials. 
Sisron.  1.  c,  iii.  c.  4. 


JUDICIAL   INSTITUTIONS.  221 

doubt,  admit  of  a  much  wider  application  to  the  other 
Grecian  cities.  Yet  on  one  point  there  existed  a  re- 
markable difference.  Though  the  popular  tribunals  were 
generally  introduced,  they  did  not  prevail  in  every  state. 
For  if  I  understand  Aristotle  rightly,  there  were  no  pop- 
ular tribunals  in  Sparta,  but  all  processes  were  there,  as 
in  Carthage,  decided  by  magistrates.^  If  Sparta  had 
had  such  courts,  would  they  not  have  been  mentioned  ? 
But  when  Aristotle  says  in  general,  that  it  is  the  leading 
characteristic  of  a  democracy,  that  the  citizens  should  be 
the  judges  of  one  another,^  may  we  not  infer,  and  is  it 
not  evident  from  the  nature  of  things,  that  popular  tri- 
bunals disappeared,  wherever  the  sway  of  the  few  was 
established  ? 

The  example  of  Athens  shows  in  a  remarkable  man- 
ner, how  the  institution  of  these  popular  tribunals  could 
affect  the  whole  character  of  a  state.  Such  could  be  the 
case  in  Athens,  where  the  greatest  extent  was  given  to 
the  public  trials,  by  permitting  any  who  desired,  to  ap- 
pear as  accusers.  The  whole  organization  of  the  Gre- 
cian city  governments  leads  us  to  believe,  that  most  of 
the  other  cities  had  popular  tribunals,  which,  without 
having  exactly  the  same  form,  must  have  been  similar  to 
those  of  Athens.  Such  tribunals  must  have  existed  in 
Argos,  before  the  introduction  of  ostracism,  and  in  Syra- 
cuse before  the  similar  method  of  banishment  by  petal- 
ism  came  into  vogue.     But  whether  the  public  processes 


'  Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  11.  yal  Tai  ^ixag  vto  rr~)v  an^riloi'  dmu'lfnt'ai  Tiurra:,  y.ul  id; 
«/./«?  j'tt'  u'/./vn',  warren  iv  /luy.hSaiituri-  Is  (t/>r,<c  in  this  passage  to  be  understood 
of  all  suits  at  law,  or,  according  to  the  more  strict  use  of  the  word,  only  of  pri- 
vate s-uits  ? 

^  Aristot.  Polit.  vi.  2. 


CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

embraced  elsewhere  as  many  subjects  as  at  Athens,  and 
as  many  things,  which  to  us  seem  to  regard  the  private 
citizen  alone,  is  a  question  which  we  cannot  decide  for 
want  of  information. 

This  point  has  been  entirely  overlooked  by  those,  who 
have  written  on  the  judicial  institutions  of  Greece ;  for 
they  had  Athens  only  in  view,  and  treated  the  subject 
more  as  one  of  jurisprudence  than  of  politics.  And 
yet  it  is  of  all  the  most  important.  The  more  limited 
was  the  number  of  public  suits,  the  smaller  was  the  pos- 
sibility of  instituting  them,  unless  some  personal  injury 
had  previously  been  sustained.  In  the  list  of  public 
offences  at  Athens,  there  were  many,  which,  by  their 
very  nature,  were  indefinite.  Hence  it  was  easy  to 
bring  a  public  action  against  almost  any  one.  We 
need  but  think  of  an  age  of  corruption,  to  understand 
how  Athens,  after  the  Peloponnesian  war,  could  teem 
with  the  brood  of  sycophants,  against  whom  the  ora- 
tors are  so  loud  in  their  complaints ;  and  whom  all 
the  measures,  first  adopted  in  consequence  of  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  evil,  all  the  danger  and  punishments  to 
which  false  accusers  were  exposed,  were  never  sufficient 
to  restrain. 

Were  other  cities,  at  least  the  democratic  ones,  in  as 
bad  a  condition  as  Athens  ?  Here  we  are  deserted  by 
history  ;  which  has  preserved  for  us  almost  nothing  re- 
specting the  extent  of  the  public  processes  and  the  pop- 
ular tribunals.  But  if  in  Athens  several  adventitious 
causes,  lying  partly  in  the  national  character,  and  partly 
in  the  political  power  of  Athens  (for  the  importance 
of  s^ate  trials  increases  with  the  importance  of  the 
state),   contributed  to   multiply  this  class  of  processes ; 


JUDICIAL   INSTITUTIONS.  223 

it  bj  no  means  follows,  that  the  number  was  much 
smaller  in  most  of  the  other  Grecian  cities.  Popular 
tribunals  are  the  sources  of  political  revolutions  ;  and 
what  states  abounded  in  them  more  than  the  Grecian  ? 
The  man  of  influence,  always  an  object  of  envy,  was  the 
most  exposed  to  accusations,  where  it  was  so  easy  to  find 
a  ground  of  accusation  ;  but  the  man  of  influence  had 
the  greatest  resources  without  the  precincts  of  the  court. 
He  with  his  party,  if  he  is  conscious  of  possessing  sufli- 
cient  strength,  has  recourse  to  arms,  and  instead  of  suf- 
fering himself  to  be  banished  from  the  city,  prefers  to 
terminate  the  action  by  driving  away  his  enemies.  Were 
we  more  intimately  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the 
numberless  political  revolutions  in  Greece,  how  often 
would  this  same  succession  of  events  recur  ?  But 
though  we  are  not  always  able  to  establish  them  by 
historical  evidence,  they  cannot  on  the  whole  be  doubt- 
ed ;  and  they  distinctly  exhibit  the  close  connection 
which  existed  between  the  states  and  their  judicial  in- 
stitutions. 


224  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE   ARMY  AND   NAVY. 


Though  wars  were  so  frequent  in  Greece,  the  art  of 
war  did  not  make  any  considerable  advances.  The  con- 
stitutions and  the  whole  political  condition  opposed  too 
many  obstacles ;  and  war  never  became  a  science,  in  the 
full  sense  of  the  word,  till  standing  armies  were  intro- 
duced. This  has  already  been  satisfactorily  proved  by 
history.  There  were  some  individual  commanders  of 
great  merit,  who  did  all  that  talents  could  do  ;  but  all 
that  they  effected  was  personal.  Besides,  the  extent  of 
states  s(>ts  limits  to  improvement.  These  bounds  can- 
not be  accurately  marked,  where  genius  and  circum- 
stances exercise  so  much  influence  ;  but  the  absolute 
strength  must  also  necessarily  be  considered.  The  ad- 
vancement and  perfecting  of  the  art  of  war  require  ex- 
periments on  so  large  a  scale,  that  small  states  cannot 
perform  them. 

After  the  republican  constitutions  of  the  Greeks  were 
established,  their  armies  consisted  chiefly  of  militia. 
Every  citizen  was  obliged  to  serve  in  it,  unless  the  state 
itself  made  particular  exceptions.  In  Athens,  the  obli- 
gation continued  from  the  eighteenth  to  the  fifty-eighth 
year ;  we  do  not  know  whether  it  was  elsewhere  the 
same  ;  but  a  great  difference  could  hardly  have  existed. 
Each  citizen  was  therefore  a  soldier  ;  even  the  inquiliiii, 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  223 

the  resident  strangers,  were  not  always  spared  ;^  and 
there  were  times  of  distress,  when  the  very  slaves  were 
armed,  usually  under  the  promise  of  their  freedom,  if 
they  should  do  their  duty.^ 

The  militia  of  a  country  may,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, very  nearly  resemble  a  standing  army.  Yet  the 
principles  on  which  the  two  are  founded,  are  very  differ- 
ent. The  citizen  who  serves  as  a  soldier,  has  for  his 
object  the  defence  of  his  family  and  his  property  ;  and 
hence  the  maxim  in  states,  where  the  army  is  composed 
of  citizens,  that  he  who  has  the  most  to  lose,  will  make 
the  best  soldier.  In  Rome  the  poorer  class  (capite 
censi),  till  the  times  of  Marius,  was  excluded  from  mili- 
tary service  ;  and  it  seems  to  have  been  hardly  otherwise 
in  Athens.^  Yet  this  poorer  class  was  or  grew  to  be  the 
most  numerous  ;  accustomed  to  privations,  those  who 
composed  it  were  perhaps  for  that  reason  the  best  fitted 
for  the  duties  of  war.  When,  on  the  contrary,  standing 
armies  are  formed,  property  ceases  to  be  regarded  ;  and 
the  greatest  number  of  enlistments  is  made  from  the 
needy  part  of  the  community.  What  a  contrast  between 
this  and  the  Grecian  institutions  ! 

Considering  therefore  the  moderate  extent  of  the  Gre- 
cian states,  it  was  the  less  to  be  expected  that  any  of 
them  could  assemble  a  large  army,  if  the  slaves  were  not 
enrolled.  Even  where  every  one  was  put  in  motion,  the 
number  remained  limited  ;  not  more  than  ten  thousand 


'  They  were  at  least  obliged  sometimes  to  do  naval  service.     Demosth.  Phil, 
i.  Op   i.  p.  50. 

-  Thucyd.  iv,  5. 

■^  Harpocration  in  Rirf;.     Yet  it  is  evident  from   the   passage,  that  the  case 
was  different  in  the  time  of  Demosthenes. 
29 


226  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

Athenians  fought  on  the  plain  of  Marathon.  Large 
armies  could  be  collected  only  by  the  union  of  many 
states;  the  most  numerous  ever  collected  in  Greece, 
during  its  independence,  was  in  the  battle  of  Plataeae.^ 
But  these  considerable  alliances  were  commonly  of  a 
temporary  nature ;  and  for  that  reason  the  art  of  war 
could  not  be  much  advanced  by  them.  From  the  battle 
of  Plataeas  till  the  age  of  Epaminondas,  that  is,  during 
the  most  flourishing  period  of  Greece,  a  Grecian  army 
of  thirty  thousand  men  was  probably  never  assembled  in 
one  place. 

The  Persian  wars  seem  to  have  been  suited  to  pro- 
mote the  improvement  of  military  science.  But  after 
the  battle  of  Plataese,  it  was  the  navy  and  not  the  land 
forces  which  became  of  decisive  influence.  After  that 
battle,  no  considerable  one  was  fought  by  land  ;  no  large 
Grecian  army  was  again  brought  together.  By  main- 
taining the  ascendency  in  the  ^gean  sea,  Greece  was 
protected. 

The  petty  wars,  which,  after  the  victories  over  the 
Persians,  were  carried  on  between  the  several  states, 
could  not  contribute  much  to  the  advancement  of  the  art. 
They  were  nothing  but  single  expeditions,  decided  by 
single  insignificant  engagements. 

No  such  advancement  could  therefore  be  expected 
till  the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  which  involved 
all  Greece.  But  this  war  soon  came  to  be  carried  on 
more  bv  sea  than  by  land  ;  and  the  military  operations 
consisted   principally  in  sieges.     No  single   great  battle 


'  About  ]]  1,000  men.     But  only  3-^ ,000  were  heavil}-  armed  ;  and  of  the  light 
HTraed  troops,  37,000  were  Spartan  Helots.     Herod,  ix.  20,  30. 


THE  ARMY   AND   NAVY.  227 

was  fought  on  land  during  its  whole  course  ;  besides 
naval  science,  therefore,  the  art  of  besieging  may  have 
made  some  progress,  especially  in  the  expedition  against 
Syracuse.  But  as  this  expedition  terminated  in  the 
total  destruction  of  the  army,  it  could  have  no  abiding 
consequences. 

Till  the  age  of  Epaminondas,  Sparta  and  Athens  are 
the  only  states  which  attract  our  attention.  In  Sparta, 
where  the  militia  resembled  a  standing  army,  it  would 
seem  that  the  art  of  war  might  have  made  advances. 
But  two  causes  prevented.  The  one  was  the  obstinate 
attachment  to  ancient  usage,  which  rendered  changes  and 
improvements  difficult.  The  other  was  the  remarkable 
scarcity  of  great  commanders,  a  scarcity  to  have  been 
least  expected  in  a  warlike  state  ;  but  which  may  have 
proceeded  from  the  former  cause.  If  we  possessed  a 
history  of  Pausanias,  written  by  himself,  it  would  perhaps 
show  us  how  his  talents,  limited  in  their  exercise  by  the 
regulations  of  his  native  city,  proved  ruinous  to  himself, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  German  Wallenstein,  bv  makin": 
him  a  traitor.  Leonidas  has  our  admiration  for  his  jri'eat- 
ness  as  a  man,  not  as  a  general  ;  and  the  fiery  Brasidas, 
well  fitted  to  be  the  hero  of  a  revolutionary  war,  like  the 
Peloponnesian,  fell  in  the  very  beginning  of  his  career,^ 
and  no  worthy  successors  appeared  till  Lysander  and 
Agesilaus.  And  of  the  first  of  these  two,  it  is  known 
that  he  trusted  rather  in  the  Persian  subsidies  than  in 
himself. 

More  could  then  have  been  expected  from  Athens.    But 

'  Thucyd.  v.  10.  When  we  read  his  proclamation,  addressed  to  tlie  Acan- 
thians,  Thucyd.  iv.  85,  we  believe  ourselves  brought  down  to  the  years  1793  and 
1794. 


228  CHAPTER   TWELFTH. 

here,  as  our  preceding  remarks  have  made  apparent,  the 
army  was  subordinate  to  the  navy.  From  the  commence- 
ment of  the  splendid  period  of  that  republic,  its  political 
greatness  rested  on  the  latter.  This  preserved  to  it  the 
ascendency ;  its  allies  were  maritime  cities,  and  assisted 
with  ships  rather  than  with  troops  ;  and  the  destiny  of 
Athens  was  decided  on  the  sea,  gloriously  at  Salamis, 
and  tragically  on  the  Hellespont.'  In  Athens,  therefore, 
no  strong  motive  could  exist,  to  perfect  the  art  of  war  by 
land. 

Such  were  the  obstacles  in  general ;  others  lay  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  military  affairs  of  the  Grecians  were 
organized.  We  mention  first  the  situation  of  the  com- 
manders ;  at  least  in  Athens  and  in  several  other  cities  ;  ^ 
in  which  not  one,  but  several  generals  shared  the  chief 
command  with  one  another,  and  even  that  usually  for  a 
short  period  of  time. 

Where  a  militia  exists,  the  political  divisions  are  usually 
military  in  their  origin.  Such  was  the  case  with  the 
tribes  in  Rome  and  in  Athens.^  The  ten  wards  of  this 
last  city  had  each  its  own  leader  ;  and  these  together 
were  the  generals.^  So  it  was  in  the  Persian,  so  in  the 
Poloponnesian  war.'  That  a  similar  regulation  existed 
in  Bocotia,  is  evident  from  the  number  of  their  command- 
ers ;  and  we  learn  the  same  respecting  Syracuse,  as  well 
from  the  history  of  its  war  with  Athens,*  as  from  the  ele- 

'   In  the  year  400  B.  C.  near  ^gospotainos. 
^  As  c.  g    in  Tliebps  and  in  Syracuse. 
^  These  were  called  trihis  in  Rome,  (fv).ai  in  Athens. 
■•  Tlie  cnincjyyiii,  of  ^vhonl  ten  were  annual!}^  appointed. 

■'  Compare  the  instructive  narration  in  Herod,  vi    109,  respecting  the  consul- 
tation previous  to  the  battle  of  Marathon. 
"  Thucvd.  vi.  m. 


THE  ARMY   AND   NAVY.  229 

vation  of  Dionysius.  In  Athens,  a  kind  of  destiny  se- 
cured in  the  decisive  moment,  the  preponderance  to  a 
superior  mind,  a  Miltiades ;  but  where  the  command  was 
shared  by  so  many,  it  is  obvious  that  existing  institutions 
could  receive  but  little  improvement. 

Another  still  greater  obstacle  lay  in  the  circumstance, 
that  the  troops  were  not  paid.  Before  the  Peloponne- 
sian  war,  or  at  least  before  the  administration  of  Pericles, 
no  pay  was  given  in  Athens  or  in  any  Grecian  city,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  Corinth.  Military  service  was  the  duty  of 
a  citizen ;  and  he  who  served,  was  obliged  to  provide  for 
himself.  But  he  who  receives  nothing  from  the  state, 
will  the  less  submit  to  its  commands.  From  that  period, 
the  custom  of  paying  was  so  far  introduced,  that  those 
who  had  actually  taken  the  field,  received  a  very  small 
compensation.^  With  such  a  constitution,  moral  causes 
must  have  outweighed  commands.  Courage  and  patriot- 
ism can  animate  an  army  of  citizens,  but  can  hardly  make 
a  machine  of  them  ;  and  what  fruits  would  have  been 
gathered  by  him,  who  should  have  succeeded  in  the  at- 
tempt ? 

Beside  these  difficulties,  there  existed  in  many  states 
another  arising  from  the  weakness  of  their  cavalry,  or  a 
total  want  of  it.  Homer  knows  nothing  of  cavalry.  It 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  introduced  into  the  Grecian 
states  till  after  the  establishment  of  republican  forms  of 
government;  since,  according  to  the  remark  of  Aristotle, 
the  opulent  citizens  found  in  it  at  once  a  support  of  their 
power  and  a  gratification  of  their  vanity.^  But  whether 
a  city  could  have  cavalry,  depended  on  the  nature  of  its 

'  The  Athenians  paid  from  two  to  four  oboli  daily. 
2  On  Sparta,  consult  Xcnoph.  Op.  p.  596. 


230  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

territory,  and  the  quantity  of  pasture  which  it  possessed. 
Where  the  territory  was  not  favorable,  the  cavalry  was 
not  strong.  Athens,  where  so  much  attention  was  paid 
to  this  subject,  never  had  more  than  a  thousand  men ; 
Sparta  appears,  before  Agesilaus,  to  have  had  few,  or, 
perhaps  originally  none  at  all ;  the  Peloponnesus  was 
little  adapted  to  it ;  and  Thessaly,  the  only  state  of  the 
mother  country  which  possessed  any  considerable  body 
of  it,  was  not  remarkably  skilful  in  making  use  of  it.* 
Where  it  existed,  none  but  wealthy  citizens  could  serve 
in  it,  for  the  service  was  expensive.  This  was  the  case 
in  Athens  f  and  yet  here  the  state  provided  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  horses  even  in  time  of  peace ;  and  the  weak 
but  splendid  cavalry  formed  no  inconsiderable  article  in 
the  sum  of  the  yearly  expenditures.^ 

Previous  to  the  Macedonian  times,  the  distinction  be- 
tween heavy  and  light  horse  seems  to  have  been  unknown 
in  Greece  ;  though  it  would  be  too  much  to  assert  that  a 
difference  in  the  equipments  nowhere  prevailed.  The 
Athenian  horsemen  were  equipped  much  like  a  modern 
cuirassier,  with  breastplate,  helmet,  and  greaves  ;  and 
even  the  horses  were  partly  covered.'*  From  the  exer- 
cises which  Xenophon  prescribes,  to  leap  over  ditches 
and  walls,  \ve  must  not  conceive  the  armor  as  too  cum- 
bersome.^    I  find  no  accounts  of  that  of  the   Thessalian 

'  St'o  tlic  account  of  their  war  with  the  Phocians.  Pausan.  p.  798.  The  forces 
of Tliessaly  seem  to  liave  consisted  chiefly  in  cavalry;  at  least  nothing  else  is 
mentioned.     The  surest  proof  of  their  little  progress  in  the  art  of  war. 

-  The  knights,  [.rmi:,  formed  the  second  class  according  to  property. 

2  According  to  Xonoph  de  Magist.  Equit.  Op.  p  O-jG,  it  cost  forty  talents 
annually. 

•'  Xeno])h.  de  lie  Equestri,  Op.  p.  951,  has  described  them  minutely. 

■'   Xenoph.  Cp.  p   944. 


THE  ARMY   AND   NAVY.  231 

cavalry  ;  but  from  what  Pausanias  says,  it  could  not  have 
been  very  light. ^ 

With  respect  to  the  infantry,  the  difference  between 
heavy  and  light-armed  troops^  prevailed  throughout  all 
Greece.  The  former  were  armed  for  the  attack  and 
close  conflict.  They  w  ore  a  coat  of  mail  and  helmet ; 
the  rest  of  the  body  was  protected  by  the  shield.  For 
the  attack  they  had  both  spear  and  sword.  The  light 
troops,  unincumbered  with  that  heavy  armor,  carried  the 
javelin,  with  bow  and  arrows.^ 

The  weapons  continued,  therefore,  the  same  as  those 
which  we  find  used  in  the  Homeric  age.  But  many  in- 
quiries and  many  attempts  were  made  to  improve  them 
in  various  respects.  Whether  a  straight  or  curved  sword 
was  the  best  f  whether  a  longer  or  a  shorter  shield  de- 
served the  preference  ;^  above  all,  how  the  w^eight  of  the 
coat  of  mail  could  be  diminished,  and  whether  it  should 
be  made  of  metal  or  of  some  lighter  substance,''  were 
questions  of  no  little  importance.  Yet  previous  to  the 
Macedonian  age,  we  hear  of  no  changes  which  could 
give  a  new  character  to  the  whole  ;  and  therefore  we 
must  leave  to  the  antiquarian  all  farther  particular  re- 
searches. 

'  Pausan.  p.  7'J7.  The  horsemen  who  had  been  thrown  down,  being  unable 
to  rise,  were  slain  by  tlie  Phociana. 

*  'On/.iTui  and  ui/.ui.     See  Potter's  Archasolog. 

^  Bow  and  arrows  do  not  seem  to  have  been  favorite  weapons  ;  they  are 
seldom  mentioned,  and  only  in  connection  with  certain  tribes,  as  the  Cretans. 
Javelins  were  preferred.  These  were  carried  by  the  cavalry,  as  appears  from 
Xenoph.  11.  cc. 

*  Xenoph.  Op.  p.  953. 

^  Hence  the  different  names  ('tofoj  and  ouy.u:,  the  large  shield,  ua^iig  and 
7zi?.T7],ihe  small  one,  &c. 

"  The  invention  of  the  lighter  coat  of  mail  distinguishes  Iphicrates.  Cornel. 
Nep.  in  Iphic.  c.  1. 


232  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  ask  leave,  so  far  as  one  who 
has  not  been  initiated  into  the  art  of  war  may  venture 
his  opinions,  to  offer  some  remarks  respecting  the  pro- 
gress made  hy  the  Greeks  in  the  art  which  relates  to  the 
positions  and  evolutions  of  armies,  all  which  we  compre- 
hend under  the  word  tactics.  We  the  more  desire  to  do 
this,  because  it  will  afford  us  a  favorable  opportunity  of 
expressing  an  opinion  on  some  of  their  most  distinguished 
generals.  It  can  with  truth  be  said,  that  the  art  of  tact- 
ics is  in  some  respects  independent  of  the  progress  of  the 
other  branches  of  military  science ;  and  in  others  is  ne- 
cessarily dependent  on  them.  It  is  independent,  so  far 
as  we  sjieak  of  taking  advantage  of  situation  and  the 
ground.  The  leader  of  a  savage  horde  may  profit  by  his 
position,  no  less  than  the  commander  of  the  best  disci- 
plined army.  Each  will  do  it  in  his  own  way.  It  is  an 
affair  of  genius,  and  rules  cannot  be  given  on  the  subject. 
He  can  do  it,  to  whom  nature  has  given  the  necessary 
keenness  and  quickness  of  view.  This  art  is  therefore 
always  the  property  of  individuals  ;  it  cannot  be  propa- 
gated or  preserved  by  instructions.  Entiiely  the  reverse 
is  true  of  the  drawing  up  of  an  army  and  the  evolutions 
de])endent  tliereupon.  They  rest  upon  rules  and  know- 
ledge, ^vhich  are  lasting ;  though  we  readily  concede 
that  this  is  but  as  it  were  the  inanimate  body  of  the  art, 
into  which  genius  must  breathe  life.  Modern  history 
has  siiown  by  a  great  examj)le,  how  those  forms  may 
continue  in  the  most  courageous  and  best-disciplined 
army,  ?nd  yet  produce  no  elTect  when  the  spirit  of  them 
lias  passed  away.  But  here  a  subject  is  proposed  to  the 
iiistorian,  of  which  he  can  treat.  Can  this  be  done  bet- 
ter than  by  comparing  together  several  of  the   principal 


THE   ARMY    AND   NAVY.  233 

engagements,  of  which  detailed  accounts  have  been  pre- 
served ?  Inferences  which  may  thus  be  drawn  respecting 
the  progress  of  tactics,  can  hardly  be  exposed  to  any 
considerable  errors. 

In  the  Persian  wars,  the  victory  of  Marathon  was  the 
.  first  splendid  military  action  of  the  Greeks,  or  rather  of 
the  Athenians.  Athens  owed  it  to  the  heroic  spirit  of 
her  Miltiades.  It  was  he  who  turned  the  scale,  when  it 
was  still  a  question,  whether  a  battle  should  be  ventured 
or  not.  The  voices  of  the  ten  leaders,  of  whom  Milti- 
ades was  one,  were  divided  ;  the  eleventh  vote  of  the 
Polemarch  was  to  decide.  At  this  moment  Miltiades 
arose  and  addressed  the  Polemarch  Callimachus.^  "  It 
now  rests  with  you  to  reduce  Athens  to  slavery,  or, 
setting  it  free,  to  leave  a  reputation  among  men,  such  as 
neither  Harmodius  nor  Aristogiton  has  left ;  for  long  as 
the  city  of  Athens  has  existed,  it  has  never  been  in  any 
danger  like  the  present.  If  it  should  submit  to  the  Per- 
sians, it  is  already  determined  what  it  will  suffer  under 
its  tyrants';  should  it  be  saved,  it  can  become  the  first  of 
Grecian  cities.  If  we  do  not  join  battle,  I  fear  a  faction 
will  confuse  the  minds  of  the  Athenians,  and  make  them 
Persian  ;  if  we  fight,  victory  will  be  ours  with  the  gods." 
History  can  relate  of  a  great  man,  nothing  more  impor- 
tant than  his  conduct  in  the  most  decisive  moment  of  his 
life.  Miltiades  himself  could  not  have  foreboded  how 
much  depended  on  that  moment  ;  yet  he  gained  his  end, 
and  Callimachus  adopted  his  opinion.  But  besides  the 
talent  of  the  general,  who  knew  how  to  avail  himself  of 
his  position  to  cover  his  wings,  the  victory  was  not  less 

'  Herod,  vi.  109, 
30 


234  CHAPTER   TWELFTH.  • 

decided  bj  the  discipline  of  the  Athenian  militia,  accus- 
tomed to  preserve  their  ranks  even  while  advancing  with 
rapidity.  They  ran  to  the  encounter;^  the  first  of  the 
Greeks,  who  did  so.  The  wings  of  the  enemy  were 
discomfited  ;  and  the  name  of  Marathon  became  immor- 
tal among  men. 

The  battle  of  Plataese,  which  happened  eleven  years 
later,^  is  one  of  those,  respecting  which  we  have  the 
most  accurate  accounts.^  The  motions  of  the  army  on 
the  preceding  days,  give  it  an  importance  for  the  student 
of  tactics.  In  his  evolutions  the  Persian  general  seems 
to  have  been  superior  to  the  Grecian  ;  for  he  cut  off  all 
communication  with  them,  and  all  supplies  of  water,  and 
compelled  them  to  change  their  encampment.  But  the 
want  of  cavalry  in  the  face  of  an  army  which  abounded 
in  it,  made  every  motion  of  th(;  Greeks  difficult ;  and 
when  we  remember  the  internal  organization  of  the 
army,  and  the  little  power  possessed  by  the  commander, 
not  only  over  the  allies,  but  even  over  his  own  Spartans,^ 
we  shall  discover  still  greater  difficulties,  with  which 
Pausanias  had  to  contend.  And  yet  the  Grecians  ob- 
tained a  splendid  victory ;  but  it  was  far  more  the  result 
of  the  desperate   attack   made   by  the   Tegeans  and  the 


'  fi  c^'K.Kw,  Horod,  vi.  112,  Herodotus  says  expressly,  that  they  made  the  at- 
tack with  closed  ranks,  af^ouoi  ;  we  must  not  therefore  think  of  a  wild  onset. 
They  had  neither  cavalry  nor  archers  ;  just  as  the  Swiss  at  No  vara  in  1513  were 
without  cavalr}'  and  artillery  ;  in  each  case  the  result  was  the  same.  When  en- 
thusiasm attacks,  computation  fails. 

2  In  the  year  479  B.  C. 

^  Herod,  ix.  23,  etc.  Plutarch,  in  Aristide.  Op.  ii.  p.  510,  etc.  has  made  use  of 
Plerodotus. 

■•  See  in  Herodotus,  and  Plutarch  11.  cc.  p.  517,  the  relation  of  the  disobedience 
of  Amompharetus,  in  confirmation  of  the  remark  which  we  made  above,  p.  233, 
on  Pausanias. 


THE   ARMY   AND   NAVY.  235 

Spartans,  than  of  artful  evolutions.  In  the  days  which 
preceded  the  battle,  Pausanias  appears  as  a  general  of 
prudence  and  sound  judgment;  he  owed  the  victory  not 
to  himself,  but  to  a  part  of  his  army  and  to  fortune. 

Of  the  battles  which  the  able  and  successful  Cimon 
won  of  the  Persians,  history  has  preserved  no  details  ; 
but  yet  enough  to  show,  that  the  science  of  tactics  was 
not  advanced  by  them.  They  were  for  the  most  part 
naval  engagements ;  those  which  took  place  on  land, 
were  only  unexpected  attacks.  After  his  death,  Plu- 
tarch tells  us  expressly,  nothing  great  or  considerable 
was  executed.^ 

The  first  cam])aigns  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  show 
beyond  dispute,  that  the  art  of  war,  in  a  higher  sense, 
had  made  but  little  progress.  They  were  only  inroads 
followed  by  nothing  decisive.  We  have  already  re- 
marked, why,  in  the  progress  of  that  long  and  weary 
war,  tactics  gained  so  little. 

The  case  was  changed,  when,  after  this  war,  Sparta, 
contending  for  the  rank  she  had  won,  found  her  Agesi- 
laus,  and  was  yet  obliged  to  yield  the  ascendency  to 
Thebes.  Here  the  decision  was  made  by  armies  and 
not  by  navies.  In  the  view  of  those  states,  therefore, 
armies  rose  in  importance. 

We  will  not  refuse  to  Agesilaus  any  of  the  praises 
which  Xenophon  has  lavished  on  him.  He  u  as  a  model 
not  only  of  a  Spartan,  but  of  a  Grecian  general.  In  the 
Spartan  method  of  war,  he  made  one  change  ;  in  his 
wars  against  the  Persians  in  Asia,  he  was  the  first  to 
form   a   numerous   cavalry  ;  and  to   show   that  he  knew 

'  Plutarch,  in  Cimone,  Op.  iii.  p.  217. 


236  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

the  use  of  it.^  Except  this  he  made  no  essential  al- 
teration in  tactics.  The  proof  of  this  is  found  in  the 
description  which  Xenophon  has  given  ^  of  the  battle  of 
Coronea.  The  same  usual  position  was  taken ;  the 
usual  method  of  attack,  by  opposing  a  straight  line  to  a 
straight  line ;  without  any  artificial  evolutions,  either 
before  or  during;  the  battle. 

If  it  should  appear  from  all  this,  that  the  higher 
branches  of  the  art  of  war,  including  tactics,  had  not 
made  so  considerable  progress  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, from  the  greatest  of  commanders,  we  would  not 
in  any  degree  diminish  the  fame  of  those  distinguished 
men.  Their  glory  rests  on  something  independent  of 
the  mere  evolutions  of  their  armies.  The  Grecian  leader 
was  more  closely  united  to  his  soldiers ;  he  was  obliged 
to  know  how  to  gain  the  confidence  of  his  fellow-soldiers, 
who  at  the  same  time  were  his  fellow-citizens.  This 
could  not  be  done  by  commands  ;  rank  and  birth  were 
here  of  no  avail  ;  every  thing  depended  on  personal 
character  ;  and  to  be  esteemed  a  great  man  it  was  neces- 
sary to  give  proofs  of  greatness. 

It  is  the  glory  of  the  Greek  nation,  that  it  produced  in 
almost  every  science  and  art  the  man,  w^ho  first  clearly 
recognised  the  eternal  principles  on  which  it  rests,  and 
by  the  application  of  them,  unconsciously  became  the  in- 
striicter  of  posterity.  In  the  art  of  war,  such  a  man 
appeared  in  Epaminondas.  His  fame  as  a  warrior  is  his 
least  glory  ;  the  \A'orld  should  behold  in  him  the  noblest 
character  of  his  nation.      He  was  for  his  age,  what  Gus- 

>  But  tliat  too  was  only  temporary.     The  battle  of  Leuctra  shows  how  bad  the 
Spartan  cavalry  was  at  a  subsequent  period.     See  Xenoph.  Op.  p.  G'JC. 
"  Xenoph.  in  Agesil.  Op.  p.  God. 


THE   ARMY   AND   NAVY  237 

tavus  Adolphus  was  for  a  later  one.  If  we  take  from 
each  of  these  great  men,  the  peculiarities  of  their  times, 
it  will  be  difficult  to  find  two  more  congenial  spirits,  two 
characters  more  nearly  resembling  each  other.  The 
parallel  we  leave  for  others  to  draw;  of  both  we  never 
can  hear  too  much ;  it  is  Epaminondas,  the  skilful 
soldier,  whom  we  are  now  to  consider.  The  idea  on 
which  his  change  in  the  method  of  war  was  founded, 
was  as  simple  as  the  man  himself;  and  we  can  hardly 
fail  of  observing,  that  it  proceeded  from  his  peculiar 
situation.  With  an  inferior  force  he  had  to  cope  with  a 
more  powerful  adversary  ;^  and  this  is  the  true  criterion 
of  military  genius.  It  did  not  escape  him,  that  he  could 
not  succeed  wuth  the  former  order  of  battle,  according  to 
which  one  line  was  drawn  up  in  front  of  the  other. 
Hence  he  determined  to  concentrate  the  attack  in  one 
point  with  a  part  of  his  army,  whilst  he  withdrew  the 
rest ;  and  his  object  was,  in  that  one  point  to  break 
through  the  hostile  line.  In  this  manner  he  was  tri- 
umphant at  Leuctra,  where  he  fell  upon  the  right  wing 
of  the  Spartans.  But  at  Leuctra,  the  success  of  the 
Theban  cavalry  had  led  the  way  to  a  successful  issue  ; 
it  is  at  Mantinea,  that  we  see  for  the  first  time  the  full 
application  of  the  new  tactics,  which  are  described  to  us 
by  one  profoundly  acquainted  with  the  subject.  "  Epa- 
minondas," says  Xenophon,^  "  advanced  with  his  army 
like  a  galley  with  threatening  prow  ;  sure  chat  if  he 
could   once  break  through  the  line  of  his  adversaries,  a 


'  The  Spartan  forces  in  the  battle  of  Leuctra  were  thrice  as  numerous  as  the 
Theban;  and  besides,  till  that  time,  had  been  reckoned  invincible. 

'  Xenoph.  H.  Gr.  vi.  Op.  p.  59G.  We  learn  from  the  same  passage  how 
much  the  excellent  Theban  cavalry  (formed  by  Pelopidas)  surpassed  the  Spartan. 


238  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

general  flight  would  ensue.  He  therefore  determined 
to  make  the  attack  with  the  flower  of  his  army,  while 
he  drew  back  the  weaker  part  of  it."  Thus  the  illus- 
trious Theban  solved  the  great  problem  in  tactics,  by 
means  of  its  position,  to  use  the  several  parts  of  an  army 
at  will ;  the  art  of  war,  which  was  thus  invented  deserved 
the  name,  and  was  the  same  which  ensured  to  Alexander 
the  victory  on  the  Granicus,  as  well  as  to  Frederic  at 
Leuthen.  It  is  easy  to  be  perceived,  that  the  execution 
of  the  plan  was  a  still  greater  effort  than  its  invention. 
Troops  far  better  trained  than  the  usual  armies  of  the 
Greeks,  were  needed.  And  it  is  in  this  very  circum- 
stance, that  Xenophon,  himself  an  experienced  officer, 
places  the  great  merit  of  Epaminondas.^ 

We  may  therefore  say  with  truth,  that  the  higher 
branches  of  the  art  of  war  began  with  Epaminondas  to 
be  understood.  But  even  before  him,  a  change  had 
gradually  taken  place  in  the  whole  military  regulations  ; 
a  change  of  the  most  decisive  importance. 

We  allude  to  the  custom  of  paying  the  troops.  In 
stales  which  originally  made  exclusive  use  of  militia,  the 
form  and  the  spirit  of  their  military  institutions  must  have 
been  changed  by  the  introduction  of  mercenary  troops. 
These  could  not  have  the  internal  reg-ulations  of  the  mill- 
tia  :  which  were  founded  on  the  division  of  the  citizens  ; 
and  although  the  Swiss  mercenaries  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury have  proved  that  battles  can  be  gained  even  with 
hired  soldi(!rs,  yet  the  examples  of  those  times  have  also 
proved  that  evils  are  inseparable  from  the  custom. 

The  use  of  mercenaries  in  Greece,  may  be  traced  to  a 

'  Xenoph.  Op.  p.  CAo. 


THE  ARMY   AND  NAVY.  239 

very  remote  period.  The  tyrants,  those  usurpers  who 
made  their  appearance  in  the  cities  at  so  early  a  date, 
were  doubtless  the  first  to  introduce  it ;  because  they 
needed  an  armed  force  to  protect  their  usurped  authority. 
But  this  force  did  not  always  consist  of  foreigners  ;  but 
rather,  especially  in  the  early  times,  of  an  armed  party  of 
the  citizens,  or  was  selected  from  among  the  partisans  of 
the  tyrant  ;^  and  further,  an  institution  which  was  re- 
garded as  unjust,  could  not  continue,  still  less  be  adopted 
and  regularly  established. 

Hired  troops,  of  which  we  would  here  treat,  began  to 
be  employed  in  the  Grecian  cities  at  a  later  period.  In 
the  beginning  of  the  Persian  war,  at  Marathon  and  at 
Plataeae  we  hear  nothing  of  them.  In  the  Peloponncsian 
war,  they  were  commonly,^  and  after  these  times,  almost 
universally  employed.  Several  causes  operated  to  pro- 
duce this  effect. 

The  first  was  the  whole  condition  of  private  life. 
When  luxury  and  the  comforts  of  life  were  introduced 
after  the'  Persians  were  known,  it  is  not  astonishing  that 
the  rich  desired  to  be  free  from  military  service.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Peloponnesian  war  and  the  almost  uni- 
versal revolutions  produced  by  it,  had  so  increased  the 
number  of  the  poor,  that  there  was  a  numerous  class  who 
made  a  profession  of  war,  and  were  ready  to  serve  any 

'  This  was  done  by  Pisistratus  on  his  first  usurpation  ;  Herod,  i.  59.  In  later 
times  (let  the  history  of  Syracuse  be  called  to  mind),  the  hired  troops  of  the  ty- 
rants were  wholly  or  chiefly  composed  of  foreigners. 

^  The  hired  troops  of  the  Spartans,  from  the  Peloponnesus,  are  mentioned  as 
early  as  the  times  of  Brasidas  ;  Thucyd.  L.  iv.  80  ;  those  of  Athens  from  Thrace, 
about  the  same  time  ;  Thucyd.  L.  v.  C;  those  of  the  Corinthians  and  others  we 
find  constantly  mentioned.  In  the  Peloponnesus,  it  was  chiefly  the  Arcadians 
who  served  as  mercenaries;  hence  the  proverb  among  the  poets;  «|  'Anxadta? 
iizixovQOi,  Athen.  i   p.  27,  for  tJiey  did  not  serve  for  nothing. 


240  CHAPTER   TWELFTH. 

one  who  would  pay  them.  But  still  more  important  was 
the  fact,  that  with  the  Persians  no  less  than  the  Greeks, 
the  same  change  in  domestic  life  produced  the  same  con- 
sequences. The  subsidies  of  the  former  first  enabled  the 
Spartans  to  hire  troops.  But  they  soon  hired  in  their 
turn,  and  in  greater  numbers  than  the  Greeks  ;  and  no 
mercenaries  were  so  acceptable,  none  so  indispensable  to 
them  as  the  Grecian.  The  high  wages  which  they  gave, 
like  those  of  the  British  in  modern  times,  allured  nume- 
rous troops  across  the  sea  ;  and  we  need  but  call  to  mind 
the  ten  thousand  whom  Clearchus  led  to  Cyrus  the 
younger,  and  with  whom  Xenophon  made  his  retreat,^ 
to  be  convinced  that  great  multitudes  followed  this  kind 
of  life.  The  subsequent  Phocian  war^  was  conducted  by 
the  Phocians,  who  were  aided  by  the  treasures  of  Delphi, 
almost  exclusively  with  hired  troops  ;  and  Demosthenes 
is  loud  in  his  complaints  and  censure  of  a  custom,  which 
all  his  eloquence  was  not  able  to  change.'' 

Of  all  writers,  Isocrates  has  spoken  the  most  distinctly 
on  this  subject.  His  long  life  continued  almost  through 
tlie  whole  ])eriod  in  which  this  custom  arose  ;  and  the 
consequences  were  so  distinctly  visible  in  his  old  age,  his 
})atriotism  could  not  but  break  forth  in  lamentations. 
Those  very  troops  of  Clearchus  and  Xenophon,  troops 
which  had  made  the  Persians  tremble,  —  who  were 
tliey  ?  Men,  says  Isocrates,^  of  such  reputation,  that 
they  could  not  reside  in  their  native  cities.  "Formerly," 
says  he  in  another  place,^  "  there  was  no  such  thing  as 

1  Tn  the  year  400  B.  C. 

-  Cnllod  also  the  Sacred  war,  from  357  till  347  H.  C. 

3  «pe  iiis  Philippic  ai'.d  Olynthiac  orations. 

*  Isocrat.  Pani'o-yr.  Op.  p.  71. 

''  Isorrat.  Or   ad  Phil.  Op.  p.  101. 


THE   ARMY   AND   NAVY.  241 

mercenaries ;  now  the  situation  of  Greece  is  such,  that 
it  would  be  far  easier  to  raise  an  army  of  vagabonds  than 
of  citizens."  The  natural  consequence  of  this  state  of 
things  was,  that  he  who  had  the  most  money,  had  also 
the  most  power.  He  could  raise  an  army  at  will.  But 
on  how  uncertain  a  foundation  did  this  power  repose  ? 
The  rich  man  can  be  outbid  by  the  rich  ;  and  Greece 
learned,  what  Carthage  learned  also  with  a  more  melan- 
choly certainty,^  that  a  state  which  trusts  to  mercenary 
troops,  must  finally  tremble  before  them.  "  Unless," 
says  Isocrates  to  Philip,^  "  to  provide  for  the  support  of 
these  people  by  establishing  colonies  of  them,  they  will 
soon  collect  in  vast  troops,  and  be  more  formidable  to  the 
Hellenes,  than  the  barbarians."^ 

We  have  already  remarked,  that  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Greeks,  the  navy  was  more  important  than  the  army. 
They  very  early  distinguished  ships  of  war  from  mer- 
chant vessels ;  of  which  the  consequence  was,  that,  as 
the  former  belonged  to  the  state,  to  build  and  fit  out 
fleets  was  entirely  a  public  concern.  Yet  to  judge  cor- 
rectly of  the  condition  and  progress  of  naval  science 
among  the  Greeks,  we  must  not  forget,  that  the  scene  of 
action  for  their  squadrons  was  and  continued  to  be,  lim- 
ited to  the  iEgean  and  Ionian  seas.  The  expedition  of 
Athens  against  Syracuse,  is  the  most  distant  which  was 
ever  undertaken  by  any  Grecian  fleet  of  the  mother 
country  ;  with  what  success  is  known.  Even  the  Black 
sea,  though  open  to  their  vessels  of  commerce,  was  hardly 

'  In  the  wars  with  the  mercenaries,  240 — 237  B.  C. 
2  Isocrat.  ad  Philip.  Op.  p.  lOG. 

^  We  learn  from  Xenophon's  retreat,  that  they  were  formidable  to  their  own 
commanders;  just  as  were  the  Swiss  at  Milan. 

31 


242  CHAPTER   TWELFTH. 

visited  by  their  galleys  of  war,  because  no  occasion  ever 
required  it.  The  seas  which  they  navigated  were  full  of 
islands  ;  it  was  never  difficult  to  find  landing-places  and 
harbors  ;  and  the  naval  expeditions  were  not  much  more 
than  passages  by  sea.  Farther ;  Greece,  especially  the 
most  cultivated  eastern  part  of  it,  did  not  abound  in 
wood ;  and  though  some  of  the  western  or  inland  dis- 
tricts^ were  better  provided  with  it,  the  rivers,  which 
were  hardly  more  than  mountain  streams,  afforded  little 
opportunity  for  the  transportation  of  timber.  The  cities, 
therefore,  which  built  fleets,  w^ere  obliged  to  seek  their 
timber  at  a  distance ;  we  know  of  Athens,  that  it  im- 
ported what  it  needed  from  Thrace.^  The  expense  was 
therefore  necessarily  great ;  none  but  the  richest  cities 
were  able  to  bear  them  ;  and  hence  it  is  easy  to  see, 
that  limitations  were  produced,  which  make  the  exertions 
of  several  states  for  their  navy,  appear  to  us  in  a  very 
extraordinary  light.  Finally  ;  the  manning  of  the  fleets 
was  attended  with  peculiar  difficulties.  Two  kinds  of 
men,  mariners  and  soldiers,  were  employed.  The  latter 
were  citizens,  and  belonged  to  the  militia ;  but  accord- 
ing to  the  earlier  regulations,  the  citizens  were  not 
obliged  to  do  service  on  board  of  the  ships.  Slaves  were 
used  in  part,  especially  for  the  oars  ;  and  in  part  foreign- 
ers were  hired.  Such  is  the  description  given  by  Isocra- 
tes.  "  Formerly,"  says  he,^  "  in  the  better  times  of 
Athens,  foreigners  and  slaves  were  used  for  the  manage- 
ment of  the  vessels  ;  but  citizens  performed  service  in 
arms.     Now  the  case  is   reversed  ;   those  of  the  city  are 

1   As  Acainania  and  Arcadia. 

-'  Thucyd.  iv.  108. 

■•'  Isocrat.  de  Pace,  Op.  p.  IGO      See  Sclieffer  de  Milit.  Naut.  ii.  3. 


THE  ARMY  AND   NAVY.  243 

compelled  to  serve  as  mariners,'  while  the  soldiers  con- 
sist of  mercenaries."  The  manning  of  the  fleets  was 
therefore  attended  with  great  expense  ;  and  it  is  known 
respecting  them  from  the  Peloponnesian  war,  that  Sparta 
could  not  have  borne  them  but  for  the  alliance  and  sub- 
sidies of  Persia. 

These  causes  are  sufficient  to  limit  our  expectations  of 
the  naval  affairs  of  the  Grecians.  Yet  here,  also,  the 
different  epochs  must  be  distinguished. 

We  learn  of  Homer  and  of  the  Argonautic  poets,  that 
the  Greeks  even  in  the  heroic  age  had  ships,  which  were 
fitted  out  for  distant  voyages.  The  piracy,  which  before 
that  period  had  been  so  common,  must  have  made  it  ne- 
cessary for  ships  to  be  prepared,  not  only  for  carrying 
freight,  but  for  fighting.  These  vessels  were  called  long, 
by  way  of  distinguishing  them  from  the  more  ancient, 
round  ones,  which  were  fit  only  for  the  transportation  of 
merchandise  ;  though  we  would  by  no  means  deny,  that 
the  former  were  also  used  for  the  purposes  of  commerce. 
It  was  characteristic  of  them,  that  all  the  rowers  sat  in 
one  line.  In  such  times  of  insecurity,  fast  sailing  is  the 
chief  merit  of  a  vessel  ;  be  it  for  the  attack  or  for  flight. 
This  must  have  been  promoted  in  the  lengthened  vessels 
both  by  the  form  itself,  and  the  increased  number  of 
rowers ;  which  gradually  rose  from  twenty  to  fifty  and 
even  more.  Hence  there  was  a  particular  class  of  ships, 
which  derived  their  name  from  that  circumstance.^ 

But  the  incident  which  made  a  real  and  the  only  epoch 
in  the  history  of  Grecian  naval  architecture,  is  the  inven- 

'  Especially  the  Inquilini. 

"^  The  ntvxvjxovToqoK.     See  Scheffer  de  Varietate  jNav.  in  Gronov.  Thes.  xi.  p. 
752. 


244  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

tion  of  the  triremes.  They  were  distinguished  by  the 
triple  order  of  benches  for  rowing,  placed  one  above  the 
other.^  It  thus  became  necessary  to  build  them  much 
higher ;  and  though  swiftness  may  have  been  carefully 
regarded,  strength  and  firmness  must  have  been  viewed 
as  of  equal  importance.  But  even  before  the  Macedo- 
nian times,  and  always  after  them,  the  chief  strength  of 
the  Grecian  fleet  lay  in  the  triremes,  just  as  that  of  mod- 
ern fleets  in  ships  of  the  line  of  the  second  and  third 
rate. 

The  structure  of  the  triremes  would  alone  warrant  the 
inference,  that  a  naval  force,  that  is,  a  squadron  destined 
solely  for  war,  and  possessed  by  the  state,  did  not  exist 
in  Greece  till  after  these  were  invented.  But  there  is  in 
Thucydides^  a  passage,  which  in  my  opinion  settles  this 
point  beyond  a  doubt.  "  When,  after  the  abolition  of 
monarchies,  the  cities  became  more  wealthy,  the  Greeks 
began  to  build  fleets,  and  to  pay  more  attention  to  the 
sea.  The  Corinthians  were  the  first  to  change  the  ships 
according  to  our  present  form  ;  for  in  Greece  the  first 
triremes  were  built  at  Corinth ;  and  it  was  the  ship- 
builder Aminocles  of  Corinth,  who  built  for  the  Samians 
four  (such)  vessels.  But  it  was  about  three  hundred 
years  before  the  end  of  this  war,^  that  Aminocles  came  to 
the  Samians.  The  oldest  naval  battle  with  which  w^e 
are  acquainted,  was  fought  between  the  Corinthians  and 
the  Corcyrajans  ;  since  that  time,  two  hundred  and  sixty 
years  have  elapsed."  '^ 

'  Scheffer  de  Milit.  Naval,  ii.  2.  I  believe  this  point,  once  so  much  contested, 
is  now  no  longer  doubted  ;  although  uncertainty  still  exists  respecting  the  order 
of  tlic  rows.  Compare  the  prints  and  illustrations  in  Antichita  d'Ercolano,  T.  v. 
at  tlie  end.  2  TJiucyd.  i.  13 

*  About  700  yeais  E.  C.  ♦  About  640  years  B.  C. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  246 

This  testimony,  more  important  than  all  the  accounts 
of  later  grammarians  and  compilers,  proves  that  it  was 
in  the  seventh  century  that  the  Grecian  cities  began  to 
support  fleets.  The  account  of  the  great  historian  is 
made  much  clearer  by  the  inquiries  respecting  Grecian 
commerce,  which  show  that  the  same  period  beheld  the 
seeds  of  Grecian  cities,  planted  on  the  seacoast  from 
Asia  to  Sicily,  spring  up  and  flourish  in  the  genial  beams 
of  liberty.  The  year,  it'  is  true,  is  not  mentioned,  in 
which  the  first  triremes  were  built  in  Corinth  ;  but  the 
whole  connexion  shows,  that  the  invention  was  still  re- 
cent in  the  age  of  Aminocles ;  and  as  the  first  naval  battle 
between  the  Greeks  was  fought  forty  years  later,  it  is  ob- 
vious, that  thej  were  then  but  beginning  to  support  fleets. 

But  at  the  same  time  we  must  confess  that  naval  archi- 
tecture, after  this  first  great  step,  made  no  further  con- 
siderable advances  before  the  Macedonian  age.  Thucy- 
dides  says  this  expressly  ;  for  he  observes,  that  the  Co- 
rinthians gave  the  ships  the  form  which  they  continued  to 
have  in  his  time.  Neither  did  it  at  once  become  a  gen- 
eral custom  to  build  triremes.  Till  the  Persian  wars,  the 
use  of  the  long  ships  and  those  of  fifty  oars  was  the  most 
usual  ;  the  Syracusans  and  Corcyreeans  were,  about  this 
time,  the  first  to  have  whole  fleets  consisting;  of  triremes.^ 
In  these,  many  improvements  may  have  been  made  ;  but 
as  no  essential  change  took  place,  we  leave  this  subject 
and  many  others  relating  to  naval  matters,  to  the  industry 
of  the  antiquarian. 

We  would  only  add  a  few  remarks  on  the  naval  tactics 
of  the  Greeks.     Did  they  receive  a  scientific  form  earlier 

'  Thucyd.  i.  14. 


246  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

than  the  military  ?  And  if  so,  through  whom,  and  by 
what  means  ?  And  here  the  reader  must  not  forget,  that 
we  are  treating  of  the  times  previous  to  the  dominion  of 
Macedonia. 

It  is  apparent  from  the  preceding  observations,  that 
the  Greeks  had  more  reason  to  improve  their  naval  than 
their  military  tactics.  They  were  often  obliged  to  con- 
tend with  fleets,  not  only  superior  to  theirs  in  number, 
but  also  in  the  excellence  of  life  vessels ;  for  in  the  Per- 
sian wars,  the  squadrons  of  the  Phoenicians  were  arrayed 
against  them.  Even  when  the  victory  had  been  gained, 
the  safety  of  Greece  still  depended  on  its  maritime  force. 
This  formed  the  foundation  of  the  greatness  of  the  first 
of  the  Grecian  cities.  Naval  actions,  more  than  battles 
by  land,  decided  the  destiny  of  the  states.  What  cir- 
cumstances and  relations  could  be  more  favorable  to  the 
display  of  great  talents  ?  And  where  may  we  indulge 
greater  expectations,  especially  when  we  look  through 
the  lists  of  the  men  to  whom  Athens  and  Sparta  en- 
trusted the  command  of  their  squadrons  ? 

We  can  best  commence  the  history  of  the  naval  tactics 
of  Greece,  at  the  period  in  which  we  have  descriptions  of 
their  e!iiin";ements  at  sea.  The  earliest  account  which 
we  possess,  is  of  the  battle  which  took  j)lace  near  the 
island  I^ada,  off  Miletus,  between  the  Ionian  fleet  and 
that  of  the  Ph(rnicians  in  the  service  of  Persia.  The 
navy  of  the  lonians  had  then  reached  its  best  state  ;  it 
consisted  of  not  ](^ss  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  triremes, 
while  thrit  of  the  Phoenicians  was  almost  twice  as  large. 
We  find  that  a  premeditated  position  was  taken  in  the  days 
before  tlie  battle.  In  the  divisions  of  the  first  line,  there 
were  intervals,  through  which  those  of  the  second  could 


THE   ARMY   AND   NAVY.  247 

sail.^  But  the  battle  itself  is  not  instructive,  as  the  Per- 
sians previously  succeeded  in  dividing  the  fleet  of  the 
allies. 

When  Xerxes  invaded  Greece,  Themistocles  gained 
the  glorj  of  being  his  country's  preserver  by  sea.  But 
it  must  not  be  forgotten,  that  though  he  was  the  com- 
mander of  the  Athenians,  he  had  not  the  general  com- 
mand of  the  allies.  This  post  he  had  the  prudence  and 
moderation  to  yield,  at  least  nominally,  to  Eurybiades 
the  Spartan.^  Still  it  was  Themistocles  who  directed 
the  whole,  not  by  commands,  but  by  persuasion  ;  and  in 
this  art  who  was  equal  to  him  ?  Twice  he  ventured  to 
meet  the  much  superior  navy  of  the  Persians  ;  first  at 
Artemisium,  then  at  Salamis.  But  in  both  instances  he 
remedied  his  inferiority,  not  so  much  by  artful  manoeu- 
vres, as  bv  choosing:  his  situation.  He  would  not  meet 
the  immense  Persian  fleet  in  the  open  sea  ;  where  the 
wings  of  the  enemy  would  have  unavoidably  extended 
beyond  his  own.  Hence  he  chose  his  first  position  at 
the  northern  entrance  of  the  strait  of  Eubcea,^  and  after 
the  indecisive  engagements  of  Artemisium,  retreated 
through  those  straits  to  the  Saronic  bay ;  where  the 
nook  between  Attica  and  the  island  of  Salamis  offered  a 
station  still  more  secure.  In  such  a  position,  where  the 
enemy  is  expected  in  close  array,  manoeuvres  are  not 
farther  needed  ;   bat  the  relation  of  Herodotus  leaves  us 

'  Herod,  vi.  12,  etc.  Here  too  we  have  an  instance  of  how  little  could  be 
effected  by  the  commander. 

*  On  this  and  what  follows,  consult  tlie  interesting  narrative  of  Herodotus, 
viii.  2. 

•'  The  Euripus,  as  it  was  called.  The  Persians  sent  a  part  of  their  squadron 
round  the  rsland,  to  block  up  the  southern  entrance,  and  thus  cut  oft"  the  retreat 
of  the  Greeks;  but  their  squadron  was  destroyed  by  a  storm.     Herod.  ).  c. 


248  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

in  doubt,  whether  most  to  admire  the  discernment,  or 
the  prudence  and  adroitness  of  the  commander. 

Of  the  later  naval  engagements  which  took  place  in 
the  course  of  those  wars,  we  have  only  general  accounts. 
The  Greeks  beat  the  Persians  too  easily.  Where  an 
enemy  is  despised,  the  art  of  war  cannot  make  much 
progress. 

We  have  particular  accounts^  of  the  naval  fight, vv^hich, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  took  place 
between  the  Corcyraeans  and  Corinthians ;  and  after 
which,  both  nations  erected  a  trophy.  The  fleet  of  the 
Corinthians  formed  one  line  ;  that  of  the  Corcyraeans, 
on  the  contrary,  was  drawn  up  in  three  divisions.  But 
the  historian  remarks,  that  no  manoeuvres  took  place  ; 
they  grappled  at  once,  and  ship  fought  singly  with  ship. 
All  that  we  read  of  the  fleet  of  the  Corcyraeans,  gives  us 
no  high  opinion  of  their  skill  in  naval  tactics.  In  a  second 
naval  engagement  with  the  Peloponnesians,  they  showed 
still  less  adroitness,  and  would  have  been  ruined,  had  not 
the  division  of  the  Athenians  covered  their  retreat.^ 

The  naval  tactics  which  were  now  known  to  the 
Greeks,  consisted  chiefly  in  sailing  round,  and  sailing 
through  the  enemy's  line.^  The  object  of  the  first  was, 
to  extend  the  line  beyond  the  opposite  wings  ;  of  the 
second,  to  break  through  the  hostile  line.  To  prevent 
this,  the  other  fleet  was  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  both  with 
intervals,  so  that  the  divisions  of  the  second  line  could 
pass  through  the  intervals  in  the  first,  and  thus  assist 
them,  when   assistance   was   needed.     This  order   was 

'  Thucyd.  i,  47,  etc. 
-  Thucyd.  iii.  77,  78. 
''   Iliiti.iJ.ftt  and  (^(fxTi^tu.     Thucyd.  vii.  36.     Xenoph.  H.  Gr.  i.  Op.  p.  44C. 


THE  ARMY   AND   NAVY.  249 

particularly  understood  by  the  Athenians,  who  also 
adopted  another  method  of  attack,  not  with  the  prow, 
but  obliquely  from  the  side  ;  so  that  the  oars  of  the 
enemy's  ship  were  broken,  and  the  ship  thus  made 
unmanageable.  In  those  matters,  the  Athenians  were 
superior  not  only  to  the  Spartans,  but  even  to  the  Syra- 
cusans.^ 

The  two  last  years  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  were 
particularly  remarkable  for  naval  encounters  ;  but  for  a 
knowledge  of  tactics,  the  engagement  between  the  Spar- 
tans under  Callicratidas,  and  the  Athenians,  near  Lesbos, 
alone  deserves  notice ;  for  it  gives  us  an  example  of 
the  management  of  a  squadron  in  a  double  row.  The 
Athenian  fleet  was  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  both  on  the 
risht  and  the  left  winir.  Each  wins;  consisted  of  two 
divisions,  each  division  of  fifteen  ships ;  and  was  sup- 
ported by  equal  divisions  in  the  second  line  ;  the  centre 
was  composed  of  one  line.  This  order,  says  Xenophon,^ 
was  chosen,  that  the  fleet  might  not  be  broken  through. 
The  S])artan  fleet,  on  the  contrary,  formed  but  one  line  ; 
prepared  for  sailing  round  or  breaking  through  the  ene- 
my. The  battle  was  obstinate  ;  it  was  long  before  the 
Athenians  gained  the  victory,  as  Callicratidas  fell.  His 
steersman,  before  the  battle,  had  advised  him  to  retreat, 
on  account  of  the  greatly  superior  force  of  the  Athenians. 
"  Were  I  to  fall,  Sparta  could  exist  as  well,"  ^^  as  his 
answer. 

The  naval  tactics  of  the  ancients  were  further  im- 
proved in  the  wars  between  the  Romans  and  Cartha- 
ginians, and  under  the  Ptolemies.     In  forming  an  opinion 

'  See  the  description  of  the  fight  in  Thucycl.  1.  c. 
''  Xen.  O^).  p.  44G. 

32 


250  CHAPTER   TWELFTH. 

respecting  them,  two  things  should  not  be  forgotten. 
First ;  less  depended  on  the  winds  than  in  modern  tac- 
tics ;  for  the  triremes  were  moved  rather  by  oars  than 
sails.  Secondly ;  where  battles  were  always  fought 
near  at  hand,  and  the  ships  always  ran  along  side  of  each 
other,  the  manoeuvres  of  the  fleets  could  not  be  so  various 
or  so  important,  as  where  the  ships  remain  at  a  certain 
distance,  and  manoeuvres  are  performed  during  the  whole 
action.  But  though  the  naval  tactics  of  the  moderns  are 
more  difficult  and  intricate,  we  must  not  infer  that  the 
naval  battles  of  the  ancients  were  comparatively  insignifi- 
cant. They  decided  wars  in  ancient  times  much  more 
frequently  than  in  modern  ;  and  if  the  loss  of  men  is  to 
be  taken  into  consideration,  it  might  easily  be  shown, 
tliat  one  nav^al  battle  of  the  ancients  often  swept  away 
more  men,  than  three  or  even  more  in  our  age. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  251 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS. 

The  character  of  the  statesman  in  republics  like  the 
Grecian  must,  in  many  respects,  differ  from  the  states- 
man of  the  modern  European  monarchies  ;  and  can  be 
sketched  with  difficulty.  Yet  it  is  necessary  to  form  a 
distinct  conception  of  the  sphere  of  action,  in  which  those 
men  exerted  themselves,  who  justly  form  the  pride  of 
antiquity.  But  it  may  seem  the  less  superfluous  to  enter 
into  this  subject,  since  we  shall  thus  gain  an  opportunity 
of  forming  more  correct  opinions  respecting  several  of 
those  men.  Though  Athens  was  their  home  and  the 
theatre  of  their  actions,  tliey  were  the  property  of  Greece  ; 
and  are  here  to  be  held  up  as  the  representatives  of  so 
many  others,  of  who  mhistory  has  preserved  for  us  less 
information,  because  they  made  their  appearance  in  cities 
of  less  renown. 

The  different  character  of  the  Grecian  states  necessa- 
rily exercised  an  influence  on  the  character  of  the  states- 
men, who  appeared  in  them.  VVIiere  the  law  exercised 
unlimited  power  as  it  did  in  Sparta,  there  was  no  room 
for  demagogues  like  those  of  Athens.  But  difference  of 
time  was  as  influential  as  the  difference  of  constitutions. 
How  then  could  it  be  otherwise  expected,  than  that  with 
the  increasing  culture  of  tiie  nation,  there  should  be  a 
change  in  the  influence  and  the  conduct  of  those  who 
were  at  its  head. 


252  CHAPTER   THIRTEENTH. 

In  the  age  of  Solon,  men  first  appeared  in  the  mother 
country,  who  were  worthy  of  the  name  of  statesmen. 
Many  had  before  that  period  been  in  possession  of  power, 
and  not  unfrequently  had  become  tyrants  ;  but  none  can 
be  called  statesmen,  as  the  word  itself  denotes,  except 
those,  who  as  freemen  conduct  the  affairs  of  cultivated 
nations. 

In  Solon's  age,^  the  relations  of  the  Grecian  states  had 
not  yet  become  intricate.  No  one  of  them  exercised 
sway  over  the  rest ;  and  no  one  endeavored  to  do  so ; 
even  the  importance  of  Sparta  in  the  Peloponnesus  was 
founded  on  her  attempts  to  liberate  the  cities  from  the 
yoke  of  the  tyrants.  In  such  a  period,  when  the  indivi- 
dual states  were  chiefly  occupied  with  their  own  concerns 
and  those  of  their  nearest  neighbors,  the  statesman's 
sphere  of  action  could  not  for  any  leno;th  of  time  be  ex- 
tendi^d  beyond  the  internal  government  and  administra- 
tion. The  seven  wise  men,  from  whom  the  Greeks  date 
the  ago  in  which  politics  began  to  be  a  science,  were  not 
sp(X'u!ntive  philosophers,  but  rulers,  presidents,  and  coun- 
sellors of  st;!tes  ;  rulers,  as  Periander  of  Corinth  and  Pit- 
tacus  of  Mitylene  ;  presidents,  as  Solon  of  Athens,  Chilo 
of  Sj):rrtr;,  Ch^obulus  of  Lindus  ;  counsellors,  as  Bias  and 
TJu'les  of  princes  and  cities.^  Of  these,  Solon  is  the 
only  oiu.^  with  whom  we  are  much  acquainted  ;  he  is 
known  p.s  a  lawgiver,  and  also  as  a  soldier  and  ])oet. 
Bdt  it  uas  not  till  after  the  wars  with  Persia,  that  the 
men    .'.ppeared,   whom    we    can    call    statesmen   in    the 


'   lirt'.vooii  iiOi)  ,in(l  •""0  yc?,vs  ]'.  C. 

-  S';  (•  i}i;;y  LjuMi,.  i.  c.  1  —  3.  The  passages  which  relate  to  thcin,  have 
alrcndy  biMMi  collected  nnd  illustrated  by  Meiners  and  other  writers  on  the  history 
of  i)]iilosf';i!;v.      ''eir.(>rs"s  Gescliichte  der  Wisscnscliaften.  i,  p.  43. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  253 

modern  sense  of  the  word.  For  it  was  then  for  the  first 
time,  when  a  contest  arose  with  a  nation  to  all  appear- 
ances infinitely  superior  in  power,  and  the  question  of 
existence  was  at  issue,  and  when  good  counsel  was  not 
less  important  than  action,  that  a  greater  political  interest 
was  excited,  which  employed  the  strongest  minds.  And 
this  interest  was  not  and  could  not  he  transitory.  For  it 
gave  birth  in  Greece  to  the  idea  of  supremacy,  which  a 
single  state  obtained  and  preserved  for  nearly  seventy 
years  ;  and  which,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  became 
the  foundation  of  its  greatness  and  its  splendor.  Political 
afiairs  and  nc^gotiations  were  now  to  be  judged  of  by  a 
new  criterion.  The  foreign  relations  were  now  the  most 
important;  and  it  was  in  conducting  them,  that  the  first 
statesmen  were  employed.  But  their  sphere  of  action 
was  by  no  means  limited  to  Athens  alone  ;  it  was  in 
some  measure  extended  over  the  whole  of  Greece. 

The  object  of  these  men  was,  and  could  not  but  be, 
to  gain  influence  in  a  community,  in  which  some  ine- 
quality was  j)r()duced  by  birth  (as  certain  families,  like 
those  of  the  Eupatridfie,  were  held  superior  to  the  rest, 
forming  a  sort  of  nobility,  and  even  a  political  ])arly,)  yet 
in  which  birth  had  very  little  influence  on  future  conse- 
quence. In  i\thens  as  in  England,  certain  fomilies  or 
classes  of  families  advocaled  certain  ])olitical  ideas  and 
principles,  by  means  of  which  the  democratic  and  aristo- 
cratic parties  were  fornu'd,  and  kept  up  amidst  a  variety 
of  changes.  But  the  history  of  Athens  still  abounds  in 
proofs,  that  the  influence  |)ossesscd  over  the  peo])le,  by 
no  means  depended  on  birth.  Here,  as  in  the  other 
similar  states,  there  were  two  methods  of  gainiu":  such 
influence  ;    by  deeds  in  war,  and  in   peace   by  counsel. 


254  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

In  some  periods,  military  glory  was  the  most  esteemed ; 
in  others,  influence  could  be  gained  without  it.  In  the 
early  period,  during  the  war  with  the  Persians,  the  com- 
manders of  the  armies  were  also  statesmen  ;  and  how 
could  it  be  otherwise  ?  But  when  the  affairs  of  peace 
grew  more  important,  a  new  course  was  opened  to  the 
man  of  genius.  Yet  it  w^as  long  before  the  statesman, 
as  such,  could  rise  in  Athens  ;  the  qualifications  of  a  gen- 
eral long  remained  essential  to  his  influence ;  though  the 
age  finally  came,  in  which  the  former  began  to  be  of  more 
consequence  than  the  latter.  We  shall  not  therefore  ex- 
pose ourselves  to  the  danger  of  being  misapprehended, 
if  we  distinguish  the  three  periods  from  one  another ; 
the  first,  in  which  the  statesman  was  subordinate  to  the 
general ;  the  next,  in  whicli  the  general  was  subordinate 
to  the  statesman  ;  and  the  third,  in  which  the  statesman 
acted  independently  of  the  general.  Without  any  elabo- 
rate argument,  the  reader  will  immediately  perceive, 
that  licre  a  certain  relation  exists  to  the  increasing  cul- 
ture of  the  nation  ;  the  mere  military  commander  may 
rule  a  nailon  of  barbarians  ;  but  the  statesman  who  has 
no  pretensions  to  the  qualifications  of  a  general,  finds  no 
l)lnce  except  among  a  cultivated  people.  To  mark  more 
distinctly  the  limits  of  the  three  periods,  we  will  rail  the 
first,  that  of  Themistocles,  the  second  that  of  Pericles, 
and  the  third  that  of  Demosthenes. 

In  the  first  age  it  is  easy  to  perceive,  that  the  qualities 
of  a  commander  were  of  more  importance  than  those  of 
a  statesman.  The  state  was  to  be  saved  on  the  field  of 
battle  ;  and  y(>t  ])ru(lence  was  needed  for  its  safetv  no 
less  than  courao;e.  Themisloch^s  himself  mav  be  rerard- 
ed    as   thv.   representative   of  this  period.       Destined  by 


STATESMEN   AND  ORATORS.  255 

nature  to  become  a  demagogue  rather  than  a  general,  he 
was  still  forced  bj  the  character  and  the  spirit  of  his  age 
to  build  his  political  influence  on  his  military  fame.  He 
owed  his  greatness  to  the  Persian  war  and  Salamis. 
But  as  a  general,  he  is  perhaps  the  most  perfect  model 
of  a  popular  leader,  who  effects  less  by  commands  than 
by  persuasion  and  knowledge  of  men.  His  nation  re- 
cognised in  him  the  most  prudent  of  its  citizens  ;  and 
he  understood  his  nation  better  than  any  one,  not  merely 
collectively,  but  individually.  Hence  ])roceeded  his  in- 
fluence. "  He  was  most  distinguished,"  says  Thucydi- 
des,'  "  for  the  strength  of  his  natural  powers  ;  and  for 
this  he  is  the  most  admirable  of  men.  His  understand- 
ing made  hiui  the  most  acute  observer  of  every  unex- 
pected incident,  without  any  previous  or  subsequent 
inquiries ;  and  gave  him  the  most  accurate  foresight  of 
the  future.  Whatever  he  undertook,  he  was  able  to  ex- 
ecute ;  and  to  form  a  true  Judgment  on  whatever  was 
new  to  him.  In  doubtful  matters,  he  could  best  tell, 
what  was  to  be  done  or  to  be  avoided  ;  and,  in  a  word, 
he  was  the  first  for  strength  of  natural  powers,  and  for 
promptness  of  decision."  Happy  the  state  which  is  fa- 
vored with  such  a  citizen  !  Even  in  great  dangers  it 
has  no  need  to  fear.  He  who  considers  the  whole  his- 
tory of  Themistocles,  will  admire  him  less  for  his  deeds 
of  heroism,  than  for  the  manner  in  which  he  preserved 
the  courage  of  his  nation,  and  in  the  decisive  moment, 
brought  them  to  the  decisive  measure,  rather  to  enter 
their  ships  and  desert  their  native  city,  than  subject 
themselves   to  the   Persian  yoke.     Such   things  can  be 

'  Thucyd.  i.  138. 


256  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

done  onlj  by  a  man  of  superior  genius.  It  is  true  that 
his  great  talents  were  united  to  a  character,  which  was 
not  entirely  free  from  selfishness.^  But  the  interests  of 
his  country  were  never  sacrificed  to  his  private  advan- 
tage. And  in  judging  of  Themistocles,  it  must  never 
be  forgotten,  that  he  was  the  first,  who,  without  family, 
rose  to  eminence  in  Athens,  and  destroyed  the  power  of 
the  nobility.^  This  could  never  be  forgiven  him  ;  and  it 
is  not  strange,  that,  persecuted  as  he  was  by  Sparta,  he 
should  have  been  overwhelmed  by  his  foreign  and  do- 
mestic enemies.  But  when  he  quitted  ungrateful  Athens, 
his  object  was  already  accomplished.  He  had  practi- 
cally demonstrated  that  he  understood  the  art  which  he 
vaunted,  of  making  of  a  small  state  a  large  one.  The 
r(>ception  with  which  he  met  in  Persia,  does  no  less 
honor  to  him  than  to  Artaxerxes ;  and  although  it  is 
doubtful  whether  he  did  not  escape  serving  against  his 
country  by  a  voluntary  death,"  it  is  certain  that  he  did 
nothinij  which  could  sully  his  fame. 

If  Themistocles  shows  how  talents  could  rise  in  a  state 
like  Athens,  Aristides  is  an  example  of  the  influence  of 
character.  His  inihunicc  and  his  share  in  public  busi- 
ii(>ss  were  grounded  on  the  conviction  of  his  honesty  and 
disinterestedness;  although  he  also  needed  the  sup])ort 
ol'  military  glory.      As  early  as  at  Marathon,   he,  as  one 

'  Sec  in  particular  tite  relation  of  the  corruption  of  tlio  Grecian  generals  by 
tlio    i^ulin^ans.      Herod,  viii.  ;". 

-[*iu1arch.  in  Theiiiistor.  Op.  1.  |).  43>'. 

■'■■lie  died,"  savs  'i  lun'ydides.  ••  of  disease.  Sonic  say  he  died  of  poison, 
uli.ich  he  !;io!;  hec  iiise  lie  could  not  perform  all  that  h(,>  had  promised  the  king." 
'I'hur.vd.  i.  KiS,  Thunvdides  sa\s  nothing!;  of  the  tradition,  that  lie  destroyed 
lr;!)<elf  hv  (h  iti-;  iivr  hull's  lih'od.  l'hi!nrcli.  Op.  i.  p  4!'^.  The  story  seems 
t!i.':-  ,,,;.,    i-i'.  ^vii  :d(l:i  ■•.;:-.  ;   ^ ;  J  i  I  .cwi  :;1(  •>   ^j).Ti;;~   s.^  decisively,  tliUt  lie 

C'ju.lI  luudly  have  doubled  the  natural  death  ul'  'J'la'uni-.li.icles. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  257 

of  the  ten  generals,  stood  by  the  side  of  Miltiades ;  and 
had  himself  the  magnanimity  to  yield  to  him  the  su- 
preme command.^  At  Plataeae,  he  was  the  leader  of  the 
Athenians  ;  and  after  the  liberties  of  Greece  had  been 
rescued  by  this  victory,  and  Athens  had  established  its 
supremacy  in  the  alliance  against  Persia,  he  was  ap- 
pointed, at  the  request  of  the  allies,  to  superintend  the 
general  exchequer,  and  performed  the  most  difficult 
office  of  lixing  for  each  of  them  its  proportion  of  the 
annual  tribute.^  Thus  Athens  owed  to  him  not  much 
less  than  to  Themistocles,  who  had  been  his  rival  from 
youth.  If  political  and  moral  principles  rendered  the 
union  of  the  two  impossible  (nothing  but  the  urgent  ne- 
cessities of  the  country  effected  it  for  a  short  time),  it  must 
not  be  forgotten,  that  Aristides,  though  probably  of  no 
opulent  funnily ,^  belonged  by  his  birth  to  the  class  of  the 
Eupatridae. 

Cimon,  the  son  of  Miltiades,  the  third  whom  we 
should  name  in  this  first  period,  connects  it,  as  it  were, 
with  the  succeeding.  He  too  was  more  of  a  general 
than  a  statesman.  His  policy  had  but  one  object,  con- 
tinual war  against  the  Persians,  as  the  means  of  pre- 
serving the  unity  of  the  Greeks.  This  he  pursued 
through  his  whole  life,  from  the  battle  of  Salamis,  (and 
he  had  been  the  first  to  give  the  example  of  deserting 

'   Plutarch.  Op.  i,  p   4-0. 

-  '•  Ari.-tide.s,"  says  Plutarch,  '-made  inquiries  rcppeclin^  the  tciritory  and 
revenue  of  the  several  states  ;  and  fixed  arcordin^ly  the  tribute  of  each  state  to 
general  satibfacti' n."  Plutarch.  Oj).  ii.  j).  ''.]'>.  ■•  But  even  hefore  tliat,  tin.e  it 
was  his  cliaracter,  wliich  had  gained  for  Athens  the  supremacy.  For  the  allies 
desired  a  president  like  hini  ;  and  even  invited  him  to  as-ume  the  supreme  com- 
mand "  Plutarc'ii.  ii.  p.  5:5"^.  lie  was  at  that  time  general  ot""  th(>  Athenians 
with  Cimon. 

^  How  uncertain  this  was,  appears  from  Plutarch,  iii.  p.  47--. 
33 


238  CHAPTER   THIRTEENTH. 

the  citj  and  entering  the  ships) ;  ^  till  shortly  before  the 
glorious  peace  which  he  had  promoted,  but  did  not  live 
to  see  concluded.^  He  seems,  therefore,  to  have  taken 
no  farther  share  in  the  internal  affairs,  than  he  was 
forced  to  do  by  his  situation.  For  descended  from  a 
noble  family,  and  a  pupil  of  Aristides,  possessing  the 
principles  of  his  political  instructer,  he  desired  the  favor 
of  the  people,  only  as  the  means  of  preserving  his, char- 
acter as  a  military  commander  ;  and  yet  he  did  not 
escape  the  lot  which  had  fallen  to  Themistocles  and  Aris- 
tides. But  his  military  fame  procured  his  speedy  return ; 
and  confirmed  him,  as  it  increased,  in  the  possession  of 
his  place.  It  was  by  the  means  which  Cimon  used  to 
preserve  the  favor  of  the  people,  that  he  held  a  place, 
as  we  have  observed,  between  the  first  and  second 
period.  His  liberality  was  not  confined  to  citizens  alone  ; 
even  he  began  to  attract  attention  by  public  improve- 
ments, made  for  the  most  part  at  his  own  expense. 
Themistocles  had  fortified  the  city  and  the  Piraeeus ; 
and  Ciuion  began  to  ornament  them.  With  the  Persian 
spoils  he  built  a  part  of  the  walls  of  the  citadel. ^^  He 
caused  the  marshy  ground  at  its  side""  to  be  dried  and 
paved  ;  he  pre])ar(;d  an  abode  for  Plato  and  his  ])hiloso- 
pliy,  by  converting  the  barren  field,  which  occupied  the 
site  of  the  AcadtMuy,  into  a  lovely,  ^^ell  watered  grove; 
and  ior  the  Athenians,  he  made  the  market-])lace  their 
most  favorite  ])lace  of  resort,  by  planting  it  with  plane- 
trees.'^  lie  was  intimately  acquainted  with  the  artists  of 
his   tinK\    especially   with   the    painter   Polygnotus ;    to 

'   rinlnroli.  Oj..  lii,  p.  1-1.  =  lie  died  in  the  vera-  4A')  B.  C. 

^  Plutarch.  O]).  i^i,  p.  202.  ■»  Called  ,;,'  A/./ua. 

-  riutavch,  1.  c. 


STATESMEN   AND   ORATORS.  259 

whose  art  and  patriotism,  the  Athenians  were  indebted 
for  the  paintings  which  decorated  the  most  celebrated  of 
their  public  halls.* 

Cimon  may  therefore  justly  be  styled  the  precursor 
of  Pericles,  whose  name  we  use  to  designate  the  second 
period.     The  time  was  arrived,  when  the  arts  of  peace  I 
were  to  flourish  no  less  than  those  of  war:  w^ien  almosti 
every  branch  of  the  arts   and  of  literature   was   to   putf 
forth  its  most  beautiful  and  most  imperishable  blossoms,  j 

Under  such  circumstances,  and  in  a  republic,  of  which 
no  one  could  possess  the  direction  without  understanding 
the  means  of  winning  and  preserving  the  respect  and 
admiration  of  his  fellow-citizens,  it  is  obvious,  that  new 
qualities  were  necessary  in  the  statesman,  and  new  requi- 
sitions made  of  him.  The  reciprocal  influence  which 
exists  between  men  of  genius  and  their  age,  is  perhaps 
one  of  the  most  interesting  inquiries,  for  which  history 
presents  us  the  materials.  When  we  survey  the  several 
periods  in  which,  at  a  greater  or  less  distance,  the  remark- 
able changes  of  individual  nations,  and  even  of  a  large 
part  of  mankind,  have  taken  place,  we  shall  always  find 
in  them  individual  men,  who  may  in  some  measure  be 
regarded  as  the  representatives  of  their  age  ;  and  who 
frequently  and  justly  lend  their  names  to  it.  They  can 
in  a  certain  degree  rise  above  their  age  ;  but  they  do 
not  the  less  remain  children  of  the  time  in  which  they 
live  ;  and  a  history  of  mankind,  as  contained  in  the 
history  of  these  leading  minds,  would  j)erhaps  be  the 
most  faithful  that  can  be  given.  He  who  has  truly  deli- 
neated Herrman  and  Caesar,  or  Gregory,  or  Luther,  or 

'  Plutarch.  Op.  ii,  p.  178.     Hence  called  the  variegated,  noiy.i/.r,.     It  was  ad- 
joining to  the  forum. 


260  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

Frederic,  has  sketched  the  chief  traits  of  their  respec- 
tive ages.  To  be  in  advance  of  one's  age,  as  is  the 
usual  mode  of  expression,  means  but  to  understand 
one's  age  correctly  in  all  its  bearings  ;  and  to  act  on 
the  principles  which  result  from  such  knowledge.  In 
this  lies  the  secret  of  great  men,  that  no  one  can  be- 
tray them,  because  no  one  shares  their  penetration,  or 
rather  in  many  cases  their  presaging  insight  into  the 
future.  On  hearing  the  age  of  Pericles  mentioned,  a 
crowd  of  glorious  associations  is  called  up ;  he  who  be- 
comes more  profoundly  acquainted  with  it,  soon  finds  that 
no  pure  ideal  of  perfection  then  existed.  To  behold  the 
mere  citizen  of  a  republic,  raising  his  nation,  and  by 
means  of  his  nation  all  mankind,  to  a  higher  position,  is 
a  spectacle  which  history  has  never  but  once  been  able, 
under  similar  circumstances,  to  repeat,  in  Lorenzo  the 
Maijnificeut.  Enviable  men,  around  whose  brows  the 
unfading  laurel  twines  its  verdure  !  If  fame  in  succeed- 
ing generations,  if  the  grateful  remembrance  of  posterity 
is  no  vain  felicity,  who  would  not  willingly  exchange  his 
claims  for  yours  ? 

In  his  political  course,  Pericles  was  guided  by  a  simple 
principle  ;  to  l)e  the  first  in  his  own  city,  whilst  he  secured 
to  it  the  first  ])lacc  among  cities.  Its  political  preponder- 
ance depended  on  the  preservation  of  its  supremacy  over 
Greece;  and  this  was  to  be  preserved,  not  by  force  alone; 
but  by  every  thing  which,  according  to  Grecian  ideas, 
could  render  a  city  illustrious.  Hence  he  felt  himself  the 
necessitv  oi"  improving  his  mind  more  variously  than  had 
hit'erto  been  common  in  Athens:  and  he  availed  himself 
lor  that  end  of  all  the  means  which  his  age  afforded  him. 
He  was  the  first  statesman,  who  felt  that  a  certain  degree 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  261 

of  acquaintance  with  philosophy  was  requisite  ;  not  in 
order  to  involve  his  mind  in  the  intricacies  of  a  system, 
but  to  exercise  himself  in  thinking  with  freedom ;  and 
he  became  the  pupil  of  Anaxagoras.'  If  before  no  ora- 
tors, except  those  appointed  by  the  state,  had  spoken  in 
the  popular  assemblies,  he  was  the  first,  who  came  for- 
ward as  a  voluntary  orator  ;  ^  and  the  study  of  eloquence 
was  necessary  for  him,  although  he  never  made  the  duties 
of  an  active  statesman  subordinate  to  those  of  a  public 
speaker.  Whilst  he  ornamented  Athens  by  those  master- 
pieces of  architecture  and  the  arts  of  design,  he  was  not 
the  patron,  but  the  personal  friend  of  a  Phidias  and  simi- 
lar men  ;  and  who  does  not  know,  that  his  intimacy  with 
Aspasia,  his  friend,  his  mistress,  and  at  last  his  wife,  im- 
parted to  his  mind  that  finer  culture,  which  he  would 
have  looked  for  in  vain  among  the  women  of  Athens. 
But  all  this  he  made  subservient  to  his  public  career.  He 
desired  to  be  altogether  a  statesman,  and  he  was  so. 
"  There  was  in  the  whole  city,"  says  Plutarch,^  "  but 
one  street  in  which  he  was  ever  seen  ;  the  street,  which 
led  to  the  market-jjiace  and  the  council-house.  He  de- 
clined all  invitations  to  banquets,  and  all  gay  assemblies 
and  company.  During  the  whole  period  of  his  adminis- 
tration, he  never  dined  at  the  table  of  a  friend  ;  he  did 
but  just  make  his  appearance  at  the  nuptials  of  his  nephew 
Euryptolemus  ;   but  innnediately  alter   the  libation  *  he 

'  In  proof  of  tills  and  the  following  account,  consult  Plutarch  in  the  biography- 
of  Pericles.     Op.  T.  ii. 

^  Plutarch  makes  a  distinction  between    him  and   the  orators  appointed  by  the 
state;  1.  c.  p.  (J()l.     See  Petit,  de  Leg.  Att.  iii.  3. 

^  jnutarch.  Op.  ii.  p.  (jOl. 

*  That  is,  at  the  beginning  of  the    repast.     These   little   traits  seem  to  me  to 
designate  the  man,  who  never  forgave  himself  any  thing.     What  nobler  object 


262  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

arose.  He  did  not  always  appear  even  in  the  popular 
assemblies ;  but  only  when  important  business  was  to  be 
transacted  ;  smaller  concerns  he  entrusted  to  his  friends 
and  the  orators."  Thus  Pericles  exhibited  the  model  of 
a  statesman,  such  as  Greece  had  never  yet  seen,  and  was 
not  to  see  again.  His  history  shows,  that  he  became 
great  amidst  the  collision  of  parties  ;  all  of  which  he 
finally  annihilated  ;  and  we  need  not  therefore  be  aston- 
ished, if  the  opinions  of  his  contemporaries  were  not  united 
in  his  favor.  We  learn  of  Plutarch,^  how  zealously  the 
comic  poets  attacked  him.  But  he  has  gained  the  voice 
of  one  man,  whose  authority  surpasses  that  of  all  the 
rest,  the  voice  of  Thucydides.  "  So  lono;  as  he  presided 
over  the  state  in  peace,"  says  the  historian, "^  "  he  did  it 
with  moderation  ;  the  state  was  preserved  in  its  integrity, 
and  was  even  advanced  under  him  to  its  highest  decree 
of  greatness.  When  the  war  broke  out,  he  showed  that 
ho  had  made  a  just  calculation  of  his  strength.  The  first 
in  dignity  and  prudence,  he  was  suj)erior  to  all  suspicion 
of  corruption  ;  he  therefore  swayed  the  ])eople  almost  at 
will  ;  he  guided  them,  and  was  not  guided  by  them  ;  for 
ho  did  not  s[)oak  according  to  their  humor;  but  often  op- 
posed tliom  with  dignity  and  even  with  vehemence.  If 
thoy  wore  inclined  to  do  any  thing  unreasonably,  he 
know  how  to  restrain  them  ;  if  they  suffered  their  cour- 
cigo  to  sink  without  rc^ason,  he  could  renew  their  con- 
fiiionco.  His  administration  was  therefore  nominally  the 
government  of  the  people,  but  in  reality  the  government 

can  he   cn)iiPni]i!a'o(l.  than  a  oreat  statesman,  wlio.  livinjr  ontirelv  for  his  hiofh 
c  iliinii.  ami  hviii::  wrrthiiy  of  it,  spares  onlv  nioirients  for  himself. 
'    As  e.    ;:■     i  '  )     fl.   I'.  ~)'j2. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  263 

of  the  first  man."  To  a  character  described  hy  such  a 
master,  no  additions  need  be  made ;  but  we  cannot  omit 
to  observe,  that  Pericles,  though  so  great  as  a  statesman, 
was  not  unmindful  of  the  fame  of  military  command.  In 
this  the  rule  of  his  conduct  seems  to  have  been,  great 
prudence,  and  to  undertake  nothing  without  the  greatest 
probability  of  success  ;  and  such  was  the  confidence  re- 
posed in  him,  that,  in  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  admin- 
istration, he  seems  to  have  held  the  place  of  general 
without  interruption.' 

While  w^e  render  to  Pericles  the  tribute  of  just  admi- 
ration, we  ought  not  forget  that  he  was  favored  by  the 
circumstances  of  his  times.  A  man  like  him  is  capable 
of  effecting  much  when  the  state,  of  which  he  is  the 
head,  is  flourishing,  and  the  people  itself  is  constantly 
unfolding  talents  and  powers,  of  which  he  must  be  able 
to  take  advantage.  Pericles  himself  never  could  have 
played  his  part  a  second  time  ;  how  much  less  those  who 
were  his  successors.  Of  these  history  has  but  one  to 
mention,  of  whom  we  must  take  notice,  because  lie  be- 
longed, in  a  certain  sense,  not  merely  to  Athens,  but  to 
Greece  ;  we  mean  Alcibiades.  The  age  in  which  he 
appeared  was  altogether  warlike  ;  and  of  this  he  merits 
the  blame.  He  needed,  therefore,  the  qualifications  of  a 
general  more  than  those  of  a  statesman.  Still  it  may  be 
said  with  confidence,  that  even  in  better  times  he  would 
not  have  become  a  Pericles,  although  he  seemed  destined 
by  birth,  talents,  and  fortune  to  play  a  similar  part. 
Pericles  regarded,  in  everything,  first  the  state  and  then 
himself;   Alcibiades,   on   the  contrary,  first  himself  and 

*  Name!}',  after  his   victory  over  his  antafronist,  llic   cliler  Tlnicydidrs,  who 
was  supported  by  the  party  of  the  Optimates.     Plutarch.  Op.  ii.  p.  62(1,  G'27. 


264  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

then  the  state.  Is  more  needed  to  delineate  his  charac- 
ter as  a  statesman  ?  Vanity  was  his  leading  trait.  He 
is  thus  described  by  the  same  great  historian,  who  has 
drawn  for  us  the  picture  of  Pericles.  "  Although  Alci- 
biades,"  says  he/  "  was  distinguished  among  his  fellow- 
citizens  for  his  wealth  and  consequence,  his  desires  were 
always  greater  than  his  fortune ;  particularly  of  keeping 
splendid  equipages,  and  supporting  other  extravagances ; 
which  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  downfall  of  the 
Athenians."  His  history  is  so  well  known,  that  it  is 
not  necessary  to  estabhsh  these  remarks  by  any  particu- 
lar references  ;  his  whole  life  from  beginning  to  end  is  a 
confirmation  of  them. 

The  men  who  have  thus  far  been  named,  united, 
though  in  different  degrees,  the  characters  of  the  states- 
man and  the  general.  By  what  means  was  such  an  en- 
tire se[)aration  of  the  two  produced,  as  may  be  observed 
in  the  third  period,  \A'hich  we  have  named  from  Demos- 
tlicnes  ?  The  name  alone  explains  to  us  distinctly 
enough,  that  the  reason  is  to  be  looked  for  in  the  domin- 
ion ot"  eloquence  ;  but  the  question  remains  still  to  be 
ansv\er(Hl,  Why  and  from  what  causes  did  eloquence  ob- 
tain so  late  its  ascendency  in  politics  ? 

We  do  not  read  that  Themistocles  and  Aristides  were 
SiviIKh]  in  oratory  as  an  art.  It  is  certain,  that  of  all 
j)r,!cti('ai  statesiuen,  Pericles  was  the  first  who  deserved 
thai  priiise  ;  nlthoujih  it  is  uncertain  whether  he  took 
ad\  ;nl::U(>  of  tiu;  instructions  which  then  began  to  be 
'/wcw    \)\    tliC   le;!chers   of  eloquence.-     But   though  the 

'   'i'lmcyd,  vi,  1"). 

-   .\r(':3r(i';;)'_i'  t)  J  li:)nrch.  i    p.  "''.M,  the  ^'ophist  Damon  wasliis  instructfr ;  but, 
ns  i;  appc'ir?,  I'ltlior  h;K   political   counsullor,  than    his   regular  instructer  in  elo- 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  265 

orations  of  Pericles  were  artfully  composed,  they  cannot 
be  called  works  of  art  in  the  same  sense  with  those  of 
Demosthenes  and  his  contem|)oraries.  As  Pericles  left 
no  writings,  it  must  remain  undecided  whether  he  wrote 
out  his  speeches  word  for  word.  A  circumstance,  of 
which  the  memory  is  preserved  by  Plutarch,  appears  to 
make  this  very  uncertain.  "  He  was  accustomed,"  says 
the  biographer,'  "  whenever  he  was  to  speak  in  public, 
previously  to  entreat  the  gods,  that  he  might  not  utter, 
against  his  will,  any  word  whicli  should  not  belong  to  the 
subject."  Does  not  this  seem  to  show,  that  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  write  his  orations,  and  deliver  them  from 
memory,  but  that  he  rather  h^ft  much  to  be  lilled  up  by 
the  impulse  of  the  moment  ?  The  speech  whicli  Thucy- 
dides  represents  him  to  have  delivered,"  is  the  work  of 
the  historian  ;  but  we  can  judge  from  that  and  other 
similar  discourses  contained  in  the  same  author,  of  the 
character  of  public  eloquence  l)efore  and  durinfi  the  Pe- 
loponnesian  war  ;  since  they  could  not  but  be  composed 
in  the  taste  and  after  the  manner  of  the  times.  But  how 
do  they  differ  in  styin  from  those  of  the  age  of  Demos- 
thcuies  !  How  much  less  can  those  orations,  sreat  as  are 
their  various  merits,  he  considered  as  classic  models  in 
the  art  of  eloquence  !  We  find  in  them  little  or  nothing 
of  an  artificial  plan  ;  little  of  that  rhetorical  amplification 
and  those  figures  and  artifices,  by  which  the  later  orators 
produced   an   effect  on  their  hearers.     We  justly  admire 

qucnce.  lie  mnde  use  of  the  pretext,  sajs  Plutarcli,  of  tcachini;'  him  music. 
Gorging  of  Leontium,  who  is  commonly  mentioned  as  bcirinninir  tlie  class  of 
sophists,  can  hardly  have  been  his  master.  See  the  fragment  from  the  Schol.  ad 
Hermog.  ap.  Rcisk.  Or   Gr.  viii.  p.  193. 

•  Plut.  Op.  ii.  p.  004. 

2  Thucyd.  ii.  GO. 

34 


266  CHAPTER   THIRTEENTH. 

in  them  the  strength  of  many  of  their  thoughts,  and  sin- 
gle expressions  and  passages.  But  they  seem  to  prove 
beyond  a  question,  that  the  rhetorical  style  was  not  then 
formed  at  Athens.  They  have  far  more  the  character  of 
martial  addresses  ;  they  bear  the  impress  of  an  age,  in 
which  the  orator  in  the  popular  assemblies  was  at  the 
same  time  the  commander  in  war.^ 

And  by  what  means  did  Grecian  eloquence  in  public 
speaking  gain  that  peculiar  character,  which  it  possessed 
in  the  age  of  Demosthenes  ?  The  origin  and  progress 
of  public  speaking  always  depends  in  a  certain  degree 
on  external  circumstances.  It  is  not  enough  that  the 
constitution  leaves  room  for  it  ;  for  then  it  would  have 
come  to  perfection  in  other  Grecian  cities,  and  in  Athens 
at  a  much  earlier  period  than  it  did.  Neither  can  we  as- 
sume the  artificial  disposition  of  the  parts  of  a  discourse 
and  the  instruction  given  in  rhetoric,  as  the  standard 
by  wliicli  to  judge  of  the  actual  appearance  of  great  po- 
litical orators.  External  circumstances  must  also  be  such 
as  to  make  tlie  want  of  orators  perceptible.  And  when 
can  this  take  place  in  free  republics,  except  in  times  — 
not  of  war,  for  there  arms  must  decide  ;  but  rather  in 
times  ol"  impending  dangers,  which  may  yet  be  averted 
by  prudence  and  courageous  resolutions?  In  such  times 
the  ])i!blic  sjuuikcr  is  in  liis  place  ;  he  beholds  the  field 
of  glory  opened  before  him  ;  and  if  no  other  motive  than 
patriotism  should  lead  him  to  ascend  the  stage  from 
which  tlu^  peo[)!e  was  addressed,  where  could  his  bosom 
be  w  aruK^d  l)y  a  nobler  inspiration  ? 

TJii's  v.as  the  case  in  Greece,  and  especially  in  Athens, 

'    [n  1)11'  iiiaslerlv  sketch  wliich  is  jrivoii  by  Cicpro.in  Bruto.cap.  7 — ]3.  of  the 
snccet;«;on  of  Greek  orators,  much  instruction  on  these  salijects  may  be  found. 


STATESMEN   AND   ORATORS.  267 

during  the  age  of  Philip  ;  for  it  was  Philip  who  called 
forth  a  Demosthenes.  Every  thing  which  was  needed 
to  produce  such  an  orator,  had  already  been  prepared. 
The  form  of  government  had  long  since  made  public 
speaking  customary,  and  had  opened  a  place  for  its  in- 
fluence. Eloquence  was  no  longer  regarded  as  merely 
a  gift  of  nature,  but  as  the  fruit  of  study  ;  and  the 
orator  spoke  to  a  people,  which  was  sufficiently  well  in- 
formed, to  understand  and  estimate  his  merits.  To  this 
were  added  those  external  causes,  the  difficult  relations 
of  the  times.  Where  could  there  have  been  a  better 
field  for  great  public  speakers  ?  Where  would  there  ap- 
pearance have  been  more  easily  accounted  for  ?  Where 
was  it  more  natural,  that  the  practical  statesman  should 
more  and  more  apply  himself  to  the  study  of  eloquence, 
and  thus  the  third  period  distinguished  by  us  be  intro- 
duced, in  which  the  mere  orator,  without  the  talents  of 
a  military  commander,  could  direct  the  affairs  of  the 
state. 

But  when  we  investigate  the  history  of  practical  elo- 
quence in  Greece  (for  we  speak  of  that,  and  not  of  the 
theory),  we  are  soon  led  to  remark,  what  deserves  to  be 
carefully  considered  ;  that  in  this  last  period  of  time, 
political  eloquence  and  that  of  the  bar  became  much 
more  closely  connected  than  before.  The  men  who  in 
the  earlier  times  had  stood  at  the  head  of  the  state,  Per- 
icles, Alcibiades,  and  the  rest,  did  not  make  their  way  to 
eminence  through  the  business  of  advocates.  Though 
in  individual  cases,  as  Pericles  in  that  of  Cimon,^  they 
appeared  as  accusers  in  public  trials,  they  never  made  a 

'  Plutarch.  Op.  i.  p.  (ilO.  And  even  then,  as  the  writer  remarks,  he  was 
rather  apparently  than  really  an  accuser. 


268  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

profession  of  pleading  in  the  courts  of  justice,  as  did  the 
orators  of  the  age  of  Demosthenes.  This  gives  rise  to- 
an  important  question  in  the  history  of  practical  politics 
no  less  than  of  oratory.  When  did  the  advocates  in 
Greece  hecome  statesmen  ;  and  by  what  means  did  they 
become  so  ? 

If  I  do  not  err,  it  is  not  difficult  to  prove,  that  during, 
and  by  means  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  the  labors  of 
the  advocate  and  the  statesman  first  came  to  be  united. 
The  state  trials,  as  is  apparent  from  our  remarks  in  a 
preceding  chapter  respecting  the  judicial  institutions, 
produced  this  result.  But  these  began  to  be  numerous 
during  and  immediately  after  that  war;  and  they  could 
not  have  become  very  frequent,  though  individual  ones 
occurred,  before  the  spirit  of  faction,  which  supported 
them,  had  taken  root  too  deeply  to  be  extirpated.  Of 
the  orators  with  whom  we  are  acquainted,  Antiphon  is 
the  earliest  who  must  here  be  mentioned.  The  sketch 
drawn  of  him  by  Thucydides,  represents  a  man,  who, 
properly  an  advocate,  was  drawn  into  public  affairs 
against  his  inclination  ;  and  at  last  was  obliged  to  defend 
his  life  for  it.^  Of  his  contemporaries,  Andocides  and 
Lysias,  the  first  would  probably  have  long  played  a  con- 
spicuous part  in  politics  but  for  his  restless  spirit  and  his 
want  of  morals.^  His  rival  Lysias,  to  judge  from  those 
of  liis  orations  vi^hich  are  still  extant,  was  entirely  an 
advocate  ;  but  these  were  chiefly  delivered  on  such  mat- 
ters, as  were  considered  at  Athens  to  belong  to  public 
questions  at  law  ;  and  the  eloquence  of  the  bar  naturally 
rose  to  a  higher  degree  of  consideration,  as  trials  not 

'   Tlincyd.  viii.  V)S. 

^  Hauptmann  de  Andocidc,  ap.  Reisk.  vol   viii.  p.  535. 


STATESMEN   AND   ORATORS.  269 

only  were  multiplied,  but  also  increased  in  importance. 
In  this  manner,  by  the  multitude  of  public  processes,  the 
path  was  opened  to  the  advocates  to  a  share  in  the  busi- 
ness of  the  state  ;  and  the  ideas  of  orator  and  statesman 
became  inseparable.  This  is  nowhere  more  distinctly 
perceived,  than  in  the  writings  of  Isocrates,  which  are  so 
often  instructive  on  these  subjects.  He,  who  was  only 
a  teacher  of  eloquence  (for  he  was  conscious  of  being  too 
timid  to  speak  in  public),  esteemed  himself  no  less  a 
teacher  of  political  science  ;  and  as  he  never  delivered 
discourses  concerning  public  affairs,  he  wrote  respecting 
them.^  Several  of  his  essays  are  of  the  class  which  we 
call  memorials,  directed  by  him  to  rulers  and  kings  ; 
although  his  friends  had  warned  him,  how  dangerous 
this  kind  of  writing  might  prove  for  him.~  They  pro- 
duced no  greater  effect  than  such  writings  commonly  do, 
where  they  are  not  suj)ported  by  personal  connections  ; 
but  no  one  will  deny,  that  his  instructions  contributed 
much  towards  the  education  of  many  orators  and  states- 
men.^ 

Nothing  would  be  more  superfluous,  than  the  desire  of 
becoming  the  eulogist  of  that  master  in  his  art,  whom 
the  united  voice  of  so  many  centuries  has  declared  to  be 
the  first  ;  and  whose  worth  the  only  rival  whom  antiquity 
placed  by  his  side,  has  described  in  a  manner  at  once 
exact,  and  equally  honorable  to  both.^  We  would  not 
here  speak  of  Demosthenes  the  orator,  but  of  Demos- 
thenes  the   statesman  ;  and  of  him   only  as  far   as    the 

'    See  in  paiticular  tlie  introduction  to  tlie  Panatlienaicus.  Op   p.  S3-I.  etc. 
"  Orat.  ad.  Pliilip.  Op.  p.  85. 

^  Cic.  Brut.  c.  8.     Isocrates,  cujiis  donius  cuncta;  Grajcisc  quasi  ludus  quid.itn 
patuit,  atque  officina  dicendi ;  magnus  orator  et  perfectus  rnagister. 
*  Cicero  in   Bruto,  c,  9. 


270  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

man,  the  orator,  and  the  statesman  were  most  intimately 
connected  in  him.  His  poHtical  principles  came  from 
the  depths  of  his  soul ;  he  remained  true  to  his  feelings 
and  his  convictions,  amidst  all  changes  of  circumstances 
and  all  threatening  dangers.  Hence  he  was  the  most 
powerful  of  orators  ;  because  with  him  there  was  no 
surrender  of  his  convictions,  no  partial  compromise,  in  a 
word,  no  trace  of  weakness.  This  is  the  real  essence  of 
his  art ;  everj  thing  else  was  but  secondary.  And  in 
this  how  much  does  he  rise  above  Cicero !  And  yet 
who  ever  suffered  more  severely  than  he  for  his  great- 
ness ?  Of  all  political  characters,  Demosthenes  is  the 
most  sublime  and  purest  ^  tragic  character,  with  which 
history  is  acquainted.  When,  still  trembling  with  the 
vehement  force  of  his  language,  we  read  his  life  in  Plu- 
tarch ;  when  we  transfer  ourselves  into  his  times  and 
his  situation  ;  we  are  carried  away  by  a  deeper  interest, 
than  can  be  excited  by  any  hero  of  the  epic  muse  or  of 
tragedy.  From  his  first  a])pearance  till  the  moment 
when  he  swallows  poison  in  the  temple,  we  see  him 
contending  against  destiny,  which  seems  to  mock  him 
with  malignant  cruelty.  It  throws  him  to  the  ground, 
but  never  subdues  him.  What  a  flood  of  emotions  must 
have  poured  through  his  manly  breast  amidst  this  inter- 
change of  reviving  and  expiring  hopes.  How  natural 
was  it,  that  the  lines  of  melancholy^  and  of  indignation 

■  Me  was  naturally  calutnniated  beyond  any  other.  And  yet  they  could  bring 
no  charge  against  liim  but  his  silence  in  the  affair  of  Harpalus  (see  below),  and 
that  he  was  in  Persian  pay  ;  which  was  the  common  charge  against  all  who  did 
not  side  with  Philip.  Could  they  have  proved  it,  is  it  probable  that  they  would 
liavo  kept  back  their  proofs  ? 

-  His  adversary,  when  he  insultingly  said  that  Demosthenes  "  could  weep 
n.'ore  easily  than  other  men  could  laugh,"  ^schin.  in  Ctesiph.  Op.  iii.  p.  597. 
Reisk.  utlerpil  a  deeper  truth  than  he  himself  was  aware  of 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  271 

such  as  we  yet  behold  in  his  bust/  should  have  been  im- 
printed on  his  severe  countenance  !  Hardly  had  he 
passed  the  years  of  youth,  when  he  appeared  in  his  own 
behalf  as  accuser  of  his  faithless  guardians  f  from  whom, 
however,  he  was  able  to  rescue  only  a  small  part  of  his 
patrimony.^  In  his  next  attempts,  insulted  by  the  multi- 
tude, though  encouraged  by  a  few  who  anticipated  his 
future  greatness,  he  supported  an  obstinate  contest  with 
himself,  till  he  gained  the  victory  over  his  own  nature.*^ 
He  now  appeared  once  more  as  an  accuser  in  public 
prosecutions,^  before  he  ventured  to  speak  on  the  affairs 
of  the  state.  But  in  the  very  first  of  his  public  speeches^ 
we  see  the  independent  statesman,  who  not  dazzled  by 
a  splendid  project,  opposes  a  vast  undertaking.  When 
Philip  soon  after  displayed  his  designs  against  Greece 
by  his  interference  in  the  Phocian  war,  he  for  the  first 
time  appeared  against  that  monarch  in  his  first  Philippic 
oration.'  From  this  period  he  had  found  the  great  busi- 
ness of  his  life.  Sometimes  as  counsellor,  sometimes  as 
accuser,  sometimes   as  ambassador,  he  protected  the  in- 


'    Visconti,  Iconographie,  PI.  xxx. 

*  In  the  orations  against  Apliobus,  Op.  ii.  Reisk. 

^  Plutarcli.  iv.  p.  TOO. 

■•  Many  stories  came  subsequently  to  be  told  about  it;  but  tlie  story  of  I  he 
pebble-stones  wliich  he  put  in  his  mouth,  rests  on  the  testimony  of  Demetrius 
Phalereus,  who  had  heard  it  fi-om  the  orator  himself.  Plut.  iv.  p.  70!1.  The 
same  is  true  of  various  other  particulars. 

^  Against  Androtion,  Tiinocrates,  and  others.  He  was  then  27  years  old. 
Plut.  p.  717. 

<•  In  the  oration  of  the  avuuoolai,  or  classes,  pronounced  in  the  year  n.')4  B.  C. 
He  opposed  an  offensive  war  against  the  Persians,  for  which  the  Athenians  were 
ready,  in  (he  liope  of  effeciing  a  general  union  of  the  Greeks.  Here  we  already 
find  the  maxim,  which  formed  the  tlieinc  of  his  subsequent  orations,  as  of  the 
speeches  of  Chatham  ;  To  stand  on  one's  own  feet. 

'  Pronounced  in  the  year  352. 


272  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

dependence  of  his  country  against  the  Macedonian  policy. 
Splendid  success  seemed  at  first  to  reward  his  exertions. 
He  had  already  won  a  number  of  states  for  Athens  ;^ 
when  Philip  invaded  Greece,  he  had  already  succeeded 
not  only  in  gaining  over  the  Thebans,  but  in  kindling 
their  enthusiasm;^  when  the  day  of  Chteronea  dashed 
his  hopes  to  the  earth.^  But  he  courageously  declares  in 
the  assembly  of  the  people,  that  he  still  does  not  repent 
of  the  counsels  which  he  had  given."*  An  unexpected 
incident  changes  the  Avhole  aspect  of  things.  Philip 
falls  the  victim  of  assassination  f  and  a  youth,  who  as 
yet  is  but  little  known,  is  his  successor.  Immediately 
Demosthenes  institutes  a  S(^cond  alliance  of  the  Greeks; 
but  Alexander  suddenly  appears  before  Thebes  ;  the  ter- 
rible vengeance  which  he  here  takes,  instantly  destroys 
the  league  ;  Demosthenes,  Lycurgus,  and  several  of  their 
supporters,  are  required  to  Ix;  delivered  up  ;  but  Demades 
is  at  that  time  able  to  settle  the  difficulty  and  to  appease 
the  king.'^  His  strength  was  therefore  enfeebled,  as 
Alexander  departed  for  Asia  ;  he  begins  to  raise  his  head 
once  more,  wIkmi  Sj)arta  attempts  to  throw  off  the  yoke  ;' 
but  luider  Antipater  he  is  overpowered.  Yet  it  was 
about  this  very  time  that  by  the  most  celebrated  of  his 
discourses  he  gained  the  victory  over  the  most  eloquent 
ol   Ills   iidversaries  ;  and  ^-Eschines  was  forced  to  depart 

'   Arlnia,  Cririntli.  Mcgnra,  and  otliprs.      Plut.  iv.  p.  720. 

-   I'hit.  iv.  p.  7"2"J.     A  leading  passage  respecting  liis  i)olitical  activity. 

•'   in  tlio  \  par  I'lH  ]].  C 

"^  !'li:t.  iv.  ]i  7"2ii.  His  enemies  even  then  endeavored  1o  attack  him.  but  in 
vnm.  The  people  assi<rn(Mi  to  him  the  funeral  oration  on  those  who  fell  at 
ClirerDnea  ;   and  by  this  did  honor  to  him  and  to  tliem>elves. 

■'   !n  ilif  yi'ar  '.V^i]  ]]    C, 

^  I'liihireli.  iv.  p.  7'.'\ . 

•   In  the  vear  ;33n  li.  C. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  273 

from  Athens.^  But  this  seems  only  to  have  the  more 
embittered  his  enemies,  the  leaders  of  the  Macedonian 
party ;  and  thej  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  preparing 
his  downfall.  When  Harpalus,  a  fugitive  from  the  army 
of  Alexander,  came  with  his  treasures  to  Athens,  and  the 
question  arose,  whether  he  could  be  permitted  to  remain 
there,  Demosthenes  was  accused  of  having  been  cor- 
rupted by  his  money,  at  least  to  be  silent.^  This  was 
sufficient  to  procure  the  imposition  of  a  fine  f  and  as  this 
was  not  paid,  he  was  thrown  into  prison.  From  thence 
he  succeeded  in  escaping  ;  but  to  the  man  who  lived 
only  for  his  country,  exile  was  no  less  an  evil  than  im- 
prisonment. He  resided  for  the  most  part  in  iEgina  and 
at  Troezen,  from  whence  he  looked  with  moist  eyes  to- 
wards the  neifrhboring  Attica.''  Suddenly  and  unex- 
pectedly a  new  ray  of  light  broke  through  the  clouds. 
Tidings  were  brought,  that  Alexander  was  dead.^  The 
moment  of  deliverance  seemed  at  hand  ;  the  excitement 
pervaded  every  Grecian  state  ;  the  ambassadors  of  the 
Athenians  passed  through  the  cities  ;  Demosthenes  joined 
himself  to  the  number,  and  exerted  all  his  eloquence  and 
power  to  unite  them  against  Macedonia. °  In  re(|uital 
for  such  services,  the  people  decreed  his  return  ;  and 
years  of  sufferings  were  at  last  followed  bv  a  day  of  ex- 
alted compensation.  A  galley  was  sent  to  iEgina  to 
bring  back  the  advocate  of  liberty.     All  Athens  was  in 

'  The  oration  for  the  Crown.     The  trial  took  place  in  the  year  ;>30  B.  C. 

2  Plutarch,  iv.  p.  7:53.  I  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  form  an  opinion  respecting 
the  anecdotes  which  are  tliere  related.  His  accuser  was  Dinarchus,  whose 
calumnious  oration  we  still  possess.     Or.  Gr.  vol.  iv.  Keisk. 

3  Of  50  talents  ;   (not  far  from  45,000  dollars)  ;   Plut.  iv.  p.  7:].5, 

*  Plut.  iv.  730. 

*  In  the  year  323. 
8  Plut.  iv,  p.  737. 

35 


274  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

motion  ;  no  magistrate,  no  priest  remained  in  the  city, 
when  it  was  reported  that  Demosthenes  was  advancing 
from  the  Piraeeus.^  Overpowered  by  his  feelings,  he 
extended  his  arms  and  declared  himself  happier  than 
Alcibiades;^  for  his  countrymen  had  recalled  him,  not 
by  compulsion,  but  from  choice.  It  was  a  momentary 
glimpse  of  the  sun,  which  still  darker  clouds  were  soon 
to  conceal.  Antipater  and  Craterus  were  victorious ; 
and  with  them  the  Macedonian  party  in  Athens ;  De- 
mosthenes and  his  friends  were  numbered  among  the 
accused,  and  at  the  instigation  of  Demades  were  con- 
demned to  die.  They  had  already  withdrawn  in  secret 
from  the  city  ;  but  where  could  they  find  a  place  of 
refuge  ?  tlyperides  with  two  others  took  refuge  in 
iEgina  in  the  temple  of  Ajax.  In  vain  !  they  were  torn 
awaj",  dragged  before  Antipater,  and  executed.  De- 
mosthenes had  es(;aped  to  the^  island  Calauria  in  the 
vicinity  of  Trcezen  :  and  took  refuge  in  the  temple  of 
Neptun(\''  It  was  to  no  purpose,  that  Archias,  the 
satellite  of  Antipater,  urged  him  to  surrender  himself 
under  promise  of  |)ardon.  He  ])reteiided  he  \vished  to 
write  S(Mnetliing ;  bit  the  quill,  and  swallowed  the  poi- 
son contained  in  it.  He  then  veiled  himself,  reclining 
his  head  backwards,  til!  he  felt  the  operation  of  the  poi- 
son. "  O  Neptune^ !"  he  exclaimcH],  "  they  have  defiled 
tliy  temp>!(^;  but  honoring  thee,  I  will  leave  it  while  yet 
livinii'.''     But    he.  sank    before   the  altar,'  and   a  sudden 


•  i.'iut,  iv.  p.  7;?-. 

"   '"'"ho  saw  a  simili'.r  dny  of  ri'turn. 

■'  Si'o.  for  til  >  followiii;--.  Tlut.  iv.  p,  741. 

^  \.'],n'.  n  snhjiTt  1"t  t!i!'  ny.  of  s-c:ilptine  I  and  yet  one.  which  lias  never,  to 
i:.\  kill)'..  !(J.u-o,  bcrji  ;n;ule  use  of.  Tlie  artist  would  only  need  to  draw  after 
I'lutaieh 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  '  275 

death  separated  him  from  a  world,  which,  after  the  fall 
of  his  country,  contained  no  happiness  for  him.  Where 
shall  we  find  a  character  of  more  grandeur  and  purity 
than  that  of  Demosthenes  ? 

It  seemed  by  no  means  superfluous  to  exhibit  a  picture 
of  Grecian  statesmen  during  that  period,  by  sketching 
the  history  of  him,  who  holds  the  first  rank  among  them. 
We  learn  from  it,  that  the  sphere  of  action  of  such  men, 
though  they  are  called  orators,  extended  far  beyond  their 
orations.  From  these,  it  is  true,  w^e  chiefly  derive  our 
knowledge  of  them.  But  how  differently  would  Demos- 
thenes appear  to  us,  if  we  were  particularly  acquainted 
with  the  details  of  his  political  career.'  How  much  must 
have  been  needed  to  effect  such  an  alliance,  as  he  was 
repeatedly  able  to  form  ?  What  journeys,  what  connec- 
tions, what  skill  in  winning  persons  of  influence,  and  in 
managing  mankind  ? 

And  what  were  the  means  which  these  statesmen  of 
antiquity, could  command,  when  we  compare  them  with 
those  of  modern  times  ?  They  had  no  orders  from  the 
cabinet  to  execute.  They  had  not  the  disposal  of  the 
wealth  of  nations  ;  they  could  not  obtain  by  force,  what 
others  would  not  voluntarily  yield.  Even  the  comparison 
w^hich  mio;ht  be  made  between  them  and  the  British 
statesmen,  is  true  only  as  far  as  the  latter  also  stood  in 
need  of  eloquence  to  confirm  their  influence.  But  the 
other  means  which  Pitt  could  employ  to  form  a  party, 
were  not  possessed  by  Demosthenes.    He  had  no  presents 

'  If  the  voice  of  history  on  this  subject  were  not  loud  enough,  this  might  be 
inferred  from  the  calumnies  of  Dinarchus.  It  is  not  inconsistent  witli  it,  that 
Demosthenes  may  sometimes,  in  his  negotiations,  have  been  too  much  carried 
away  by  the  liveliness  of  his  feelings. 


276  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

to  offer,  no  places  to  give  away,  no  ribbons  and  titles  to 
promise.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  opposed  by  men,  who 
could  control  everything  by  which  covetousness  or  ambi- 
tion can  be  tempted.  What  could  he  oppose  to  them, 
but  his  talents,  his  activity,  and  his  courage  ?  Provided 
with  no  other  arms,  he  supported  the  contest  against  the 
superiority  of  foreign  strength,  and  the  still  more  danger- 
ous contest  with  the  corruptions  of  his  own  nation.  It 
was  his  high  calling,  to  be  the  pillar  of  a  sinking  state. 
Thirty  years  he  remained  true  to  it,  and  he  did  not  yield 
till  he  was  buried  beneath  its  ruins. 


SCIENCES   IN    CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.       277 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


THE    SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION   WITH   THE    STATE. 

The  relation  which  exists  between  science  and  politi- 
cal institutions,  is  of  a  twofold  nature.  It  may  be  asked, 
What  has  the  state  done  for  the  promotion  of  the 
sciences  ?  And  also,  What  influence  in  return  have  the 
sciences,  or  any  particular  branches  of  them,  exerted  on 
the  state  ?  Both  questions  deserve  to  be  considered  in 
the  case  of  the  Greeks. 

Where  the  government  is  actively  engaged  in  promot- 
ing the  sciences,  their  previous  existence  may  be  inferred. 
To  create  them  neither  is,  nor  can  be  a  concern  of  the 
state.  Even  where  they  are  beginning  to  flourish,  it 
cannot  at  once  be  expected,  that  they  should  receive 
public  support  ;  because  they  do  not  stand  in  immediate 
relation  with  the  general  government.  They  are  the 
fruit  of  the  investigations  of  individual  eminent  men  ; 
who  have  a  right  to  expect  nothing,  but  that  no  hin- 
drances should  be  laid  in  the  way  of  their  inquiries  and 
labors.  Such  was  the  situation  of  things  in  the  Grecian 
states,  at  the  time  when  scientific  pursuits  began  to  gain 
life.  What  inducement  could  the  state  have  had  to  in- 
terfere at  once  for  their  encouragement.  In  Greece  the 
motive  which  was  of  influence  in  the  East,  did  not  exist. 
Religion  had  no  secret  doctrines.  She  required  no  in- 
stitutions for  their  dissemination.  There  certainly  were 
public  schools  for  instruction  in  reading,  writing,  and  in 


278  CHAPTER   FOURTEENTH 

music  (poetry  and  song)  ;  over  which  teachers  were  ap- 
pointed in  all  the  principal  cities  ;  and  the  laws  provided 
that  no  abuses  dangerous  to  youth  should  find  entrance 
to  them.'  But  in  most  of  them  tlie  masters  were  pro- 
bably not  paid  by  the  state  ;~  they  received  a  compensa- 
tion from  their  pupils.  The  same  is  true  of  the  more 
advanced  instruction  delivered  by  the  sophists  ;  some  of 
whom  amassed  wealth  from  their  occupation  ;  yet  not  at 
the  expense  of  the  state,  but  of  their  pupils. 

Thus  it  appears,  that  excepting  the  gymnasia,  which 
were  destined  for  bodily  exercises,  and  of  w  hich  the  sup- 
port was  one  of  the  duties  incumbent  on  citizens,^  no 
higher  institutions  for  instruction  existed  previous  to  the 
Macedonian  age.  But  when  the  mass  of  scientific  know- 
ledge had  accumulated  ;  when  it  was  felt  how  valuable 
that  knowledge  was  to  the  state  ;  when  the  monarchical 
constitutions  were  introduced  after  the  age  of  Alexander; 
provision  was  made  for  such  institutions  ;  the  museum  of 
Alexandria  and  that  of  Pergamus  were  established  ;  and 
it  still  remains  for  a  more  thorough  investigation  to  decide, 
whether  the  state  remained  wholly  inactive,  while  the 
schools  of  philosophy  and  of  rhetoric  were  forming.  Shall 
the  Grecian  republics,  then,  still  continue  to  be  cited,  as 
has  been  done  by  the  celebrated  founder  of  a  new  school 
of  ])olitical  economy,  in  proof  that  the  state  should  leave 

'   Sro  the  laws  of  Solon  on  this  point.     Petit.  Leg.  Att.  L.  ii.Tit.  iv.  p.  239. 

"  ]  limit  the  pr()position  on  purpose,  for  it  would  be  altogether  false  to  assert 
oeiierally,  tliat  this  never  took  place.  Charonidas,  in  his  laws  at  Catana,  which 
w.  re  altorwards  adopted  in  Tluiriuni,  had  expressly  enacted,  that  the  school- 
inasters  should  be  paid  by  the  stale;  Died.  xii.  p.  80,  as  an  affair  of  the  utmost 
importance.  Since  the  schools  were  so  carefully  watched  over,  may  not  the  same 
]ia\e  taken  place  in  inanj-  other  cities.-  This  however  is  true  only  of  the  infe- 
nnr  or  popular  schools. 

'  'i'he  v  I' !  K'''!.^ ','/'"  ■   *^P  Petit,  iii.  Tit.  iv.  p.  S."),"). 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        279 

the  sciences  to  provide  for  themselves  ?  Should  it  not 
rather  encourao;e  and  provide  for  them  in  countries, 
where  the  culture  of  most  of  them  is  in  several  rela- 
tions necessary  for  its  welfare  ?  Where  the  teacher  of 
religion  as  well  as  the  judge,  where  the  physician  as  well 
as  the  statesman,  stands  in  need  of  various  kinds  of 
knowledge  ? 

But  when  that  assertion  is  understood  as  implying 
that  the  state  among  the  Greeks  was  wholly  uncon- 
cerned about  intellectual  culture  and  improvement,  but 
left  these  subjects  to  themselves,  a  monstrous  error  lies 
at  the  bottom  of  it.  No  states  in  the  whole  course 
of  history  have  proportionally  done  more  for  them  than 
the  Grecian  ;  but  they  did  it  in  a  different  manner 
from  the  moderns.  We  measure  intellectual  culture  by 
the  state  of  science  ;  for  which  our  mod(M'n  states,  as 
is  well  known,  have  at  times  done  so  much  and  so 
little  ;  the  Greeks,  on  the  contrary,  were  accustomed 
to  find  their  standard  in  the  arts.  The  state  among 
the  Greeks  did  little  for  the  sci(Mices,  because  it  did 
every  thing  for  the  arts.  The  latter,  as  wc  shall 
more  fully  exj)lain  hereafter,  were  of  more  immediate 
importance  to  it  than  the  former;  while  the  reverse  is 
tru(!  amoiij2;  the  moderns,  flow, then  can  we  in)  aston- 
ished that  the  arts  were  the  chief  object  of  interest  to 
the  Grecian  states  .' 

The  answer  to  the  otlier  qiu^stion  embraces  a  wider 
field  :  Among  the  Greeks,  what  consequences  had  the 
sciences  for  thc^  state  r  And  here  we  would  in  the 
first  j)lace  treat  of  j)hilosophy,  and  them  annex  to  the 
in(|uirv  on  that  subject,  some  rcMiiarks  r;\sj)ectin2:  history. 

After  so  many  acute  and    copious  explanations  of  the 


280  CHAPTER   FOURTEENTH. 

Grecian  philosophy,  no  one  will  here  expect  a  new  ana- 
lysis of  their  systems.  It  is  our  object  to  show  how  the 
connection  between  philosophy  and  politics  originated 
among  the  Greeks,  how  it  was  continued  and  increased, 
and  what  was  its  influence  ? 

The  philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  as  of  other  nations, 
began  with  inquiries  into  the  origin  of  things.  The 
opinions  of  the  Ionian  school  respectino;  it  are  generally 
known.  If,  as  a  modern  historical  critic  has  made  to  ap- 
pear very  probable,^  they  were  at  first  connected  with 
religious  representations,  as  we  find  them  in  the  Orphic 
precepts,  they  did  not  long  remain  thus  united,  for  they 
were  stript  of  their  mythological  garb  ;  and  in  this  man- 
ner the  philosophy  of  the  Greeks  gained  its  independence, 
while  in  the  East  it  always  remained  connected  with  re- 
ligion. Still  it  is  nowhere  mentioned,  that  the  philoso- 
phers who  belonged  to  this  school,  had  made  the  state 
the  object  of  th(nr  inquiries  ;  yet  if  we  consider  Anaxa- 
goras  as  of  the  number,  his  connection  with  Pericles,  and 
the  influence  which  by  means  of  his  instructions  he  ex- 
ercis(Hl  over  tliat  statesman,  are  remarkable.  But,  as 
we  observed  in  a  former  chapter,  no  instruction  in 
a  philosophic  system  was  given  ;  but  in  the  appli- 
cation of  some  propositions  in  natural  philosophy  to 
practical  politics.  Plutarch  has  preserved  for  us  the  true 
object.  "  He  freed  Pericles,"  says  th(^  l)ioiiraj)her,^ 
"  from  that  superstition,  which  proceeds  from  false  judg- 
ments respecting  auguries  and  prodigies,  bv  explaining 
to  him  their   natural    causes."     He   who   bears   in  mind 

'  I)()uter\vpck.  Coiniiionlatio  tie  priniis  philosojiliorurn  Gra'Coruvn  dccrctis  phy- 
sicis      See  Ciott.  Gel.  Anzeig.  1812.  St.  11. 
"  Plut  i.  p.  ."^!)7. 


SCIENCES  IN   CONNECTION   WITH  THE   STATE.         281 

the  great  influence  exercised  by  this  belief  or  supersti- 
tion on  the  undertakings  of  the  statesmen  of  antiquity, 
will  not  mistake  the  importance  of  such  instruction  ;  and 
he  will  also  understand  the  consequences,  which  could 
follow  this  diminution  of  respect  for  the  popular  religion 
in  the  eyes  of  the  multitude.  The  persecution  of  Anax- 
agoras  for  denying  the  gods,  and  exercising  his  reason 
respecting  celestial  things,^  could  not  be  averted  by  Peri- 
cles himself;  who  was  obliged  to  consent  to  the  banish- 
ment of  the  philosopher.  And  this  was  the  commence- 
ment of  the  contest  between  philosophy  and  the  popular 
religion  ;  a  contest,  which  was  afterwards  repeatedly  re- 
newed, and  was  attended  by  further  consequences,  that 
we  must  not  omit  to  observe. 

Pythagoras,  though  somewhat  younger  than  the 
founder  of  the  Ionian  school,  was  himself  an  Ionian  of 
the  island  of  Samos.  Nevertheless  he  found  his  sphere 
of  action  not  there,  but  in  Croton  in  Lower  Italy.  Of 
no  one  of  the  Grecian  sages  is  the  history  so  involved  in 
the  obscurities  of  tradition  and  the  marvellous  :  and  yet 
no  other  became  of  such  political  importance.^  If  we 
desire  to  estimate  the  influence  of  his  philosophy  on  the 
state,  we  must  by  all  means  distinguish  the  influence  of 
the  Pythagorean  league  on  the  cities  of  Magna  Gr^ecia, 
from  the  influence  of  his  philosophy  on  Greece  itself, 
after  that  league  had  come  to  an  end. 

'   Plutarch,  i.  p.  ()54,  G.")5. 

^  We  cannot  exactly  fix  the  year  of  the  birth  or  of  the  death  of  Pythagoras. 
It  is  most  probable  that  he  came  to  Croton  about  the  year  -540 ;  he  was  certainly 
there  at  the  period  of  the  destruction  of  Sybaris,  in  the  year  510  B.  C.  His 
league,  which  existed  at  that  time,  was  afterwards,  about  the  year  500  15.  C,  dis- 
solved by  Cylon  and  jiis  faction.  Little  would  remain  to  be  added  to  the  critical 
inquiries  of  Meincrs  respecting  the  Pythagorean  Philosophy,  if  he  had  not  almost 
wholly  neglected  to  treat  of  the  political  doctrines  of  Pythagoras. 
36 


282  CHAPTER    FOURTEENTH. 

If  we  subject  to  a  critical  investigation,  that  which 
antiquity  relates  in  a  credible  manner  of  his  society  and 
their  objects,  we  observe  a  phenomenon,  which  is  in 
many  respects  without  a  parallel.  And  yet  I  believe^ 
this  is  most  intimately  connected  with  the  aristocratic 
and  democratic  factions  which  may  be  remarked  so  fre- 
quently in  the  Grecian  states.  Pythagoras  had  deserted 
Samos,  to  escape  from  the  government  of  Polycrates  ; 
and  w^hatever  scruples  may  be  raised  respecting  his  other 
journeys,  no  one  has  denied  his  residence  in  Egypt.  At 
the  time  when  he  visited  this  country,  probably  under 
Amasis,  w  ho  made  it  accessible  to  the  Greeks,  the  throne 
of  the  Pharaohs  was  still  standing,  and  the  influence  of 
the  cast  of  priests  unimpaired.  From  them  it  is  certain 
th;!t  he  adopted  much,  both  in  respect  to  dress  and  man- 
ner of  living ;  and  could  it  have  escaped  a  man  of  his 
penetration,  how  much  can  be  effected  in  a  state  by  the 
union  of  men  of  influence  ;  although  he  must  have  seen, 
tJiat  a  cast  of  pri(^sts  could  never  thrive  among  the 
Gi(>eks  ?  According  to  all  which  we  hear  respecting 
bin],  he  was  master  of  the  art  of  exciting,  not  attention 
onh,  but  enthusiasm.  His  dignity,  his  dress,  the  purity 
of  his  morals,  his  eloquence,  were  of  such  a  kind,  that 
men  were  IncHned  to  exalt  him  above  the  class  of  com- 
mon mortals.'  A  comparison  of  the  history  of  the  seve- 
ral cities  in  Magna  Gr^ecia,  at  the  time  of  his  appearing 
in  lh(Mn,  distinctly  shows,  that  the  government,  in  the 
most  flourishinii-  of  them,  was  possessed  by  the  higher 
class.  Aiiainst  this  order  a  popular  party  began  about 
this  time  to  b{^  Jormed  ;  and  the  controversies  of  the  two 

'   S('i^  til''   na-.sau'os   in   proi''  of  t!i!s  in  "Nle'nors,  B.  i.    s.  405,  etc.     They  are 
clii('ll\'  inlu'ii  fV  "111  .\r:-;;.o.\-.jniis.  (mc  of  the  iiio.'^t  credible  witnesses. 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION    WITH  THE   STATE.         283 

soon  occasioned  the  destruction  of  Sybaris.^  Pythago- 
ras, who  was  anything  rather  than  a  friend  to  the  mob, 
joined  the  party  of  the  higher  order  ;  which  in  its  turn 
found  support  in  his  splendid  talents.  But  this  was  the 
period  in  which  luxury  had  risen  in  those  cities,  and  es- 
pecially in  the  rich  families,  to  a  degree  never  before 
known.  It  could  not  escape  a  man  like  him,  that  this 
corruption  of  manners  must  be  followed  by  the  downfall 
of  his  party ;  and  hence  it  was  natural  for  him  to  resolve 
to  found  his  political  reform  on  a  moral  one.^  Being  in- 
timately connected  with  the  higher  order,  he  united  them 
in  a  narrower  circle  ;  and  necessity  soon  occasioned  a 
distinction  to  be  made  between  the  class  of  those  who 
were  on  probation,  and  those  who  were  already  admit- 
ted.^ Self-government  was  the  grand  object  of  his  moral 
reform.  For  this  end  he  found  it  necessary  to  prescribe 
a  certain  manner  of  life,  which  was  distinguished  by  a 
most  cleanly  but  not  luxurious  clothing,  a  regular  diet,  a 
methodical  division  of  time,  part  of  which  was  to  be  ap- 
propriated to  the  individual  himself  and  part  to  the  state. 
And  this  may  have  contributed  not  a  little  to  form  those 
firm  friendships,  without  which  not  much  influence  on 
public  affairs  can  be  exercised  in  republics.  His  ac- 
quaintance with  speculative  and  mathematical  science 
need   not  here    be    mentioned,     since    it   is    altogether 

'  The  party  of  the  nobles,  uOO  in  number,  fled  after  their  banishment  from 
thence  to  Croton,  and  prayed  for  protection  ;  which  they  received  principally  by 
the  advice  of  Pythagoras.  Diod.  xii.  p.  77.  Wechel.  The  passages  which 
prove  tliat  those  cities  had  aristocratical  constitutions,  may  be  found  in  Meiners, 
i.  306. 

'  See  the  passages  in  evidence  of  tiiis,  and  the  incredible  sensation  produced 
by  him,  in  Meiners,  i.  p.  390. 

^  Therefore  in  Herod,  ii.  81,  the  Pythagorean  sect  is  enumerated  among  the 
mysteries. 


284  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

unknown  to  us,  how  far  he  applied  it  to  political  pur- 
poses. 

When  we  consider,  that  his  society,  of  which  he  him- 
self formed  the  central  point,  but  which  had  its  branches 
in  the  other  cities  of  Magna  Grsecia,  and  according  to 
some  accounts  even  in  Carthage  and  Cjrene,  continued 
to  exist  for  at  least  thirty  years,  we  can  realize  that  it 
may  have  borne  not  only  blossoms,  but  fruits.  His  dis- 
ciples came  by  degrees  to  fill  the  most  important  posts, 
not  only  in  Croton,  but  also  in  the  other  Grecian  cities ; 
and  yet  at  the  time  of  the  destruction  of  Sybaris,  the  sect 
must  have  existed  in  its  full  force ;  since  Pythagoras  ad- 
vised the  reception  of  the  banished  ;^  and  in  the  war 
against  Sybaris,  one  of  his  most  distinguished  scholars, 
the  wrestler  Milo,^  held  the  supreme  command.  But 
when  a  secret  society  pursues  political  ends,  it  naturally 
follows,  that  an  opposing  party  increases  in  the  same 
degree  in  which  the  preponderating  influence  of  such  a 
society  becomes  more  felt.^  But  in  this  case,  the  oppo- 
sition existed  already  in  the  popular  party.^  It  therefore 
only  needed  a  daring  leader,  like  Cylon,  to  scatter  the 
society  Iw  violence ;  the  assembly  was  surprised,  and 
most  of  them  cut  down,  while  a  few  only,  and  with  them 
their  master,  escaped.  After  such  a  victory  of  the  ad- 
verse faction,  the  expulsion  of  the  rest   of  the  Pythago- 

'   Diod.  1.  c. 

■^  Violent  Ijodily  exercises  formed  a  part  of  the  discipline  of  Pythagoras.  Six 
times  in  one  Olympiad,  prizes  at  Olympia  were  gained  in  those  days  by  inliabit- 
ants  of  Croton.  Must  not  this  too  have  contributed  to  increase  the  fame  of 
Pylhagoras  ? 

■^  Need  1  cite  the  example  of  the  llhiminati? 

^  Cylon,  the  author  of  that  commotion,  is  described  as  the  leader  of  the  denio- 
cralic  i)arty  ;  and  tiiis  is  proved  by  the  anarchy  which  ensued  after  the  catastro- 
plie,  and  continued  till  order  was  restored  by  tlie  mother  cities  in  Achaia. 


SCIENCES   IN    CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        285 

reans  who  remained  alive,  from  their  offices,  was  a  natu- 
ral consequence ;  and  the  political  importance  of  the 
society  was  at  an  end.  It  was  never  able  to  raise  its 
head  again. 

With  the  political  doctrines  of  the  Pythagoreans,  we 
are  acquainted  only  from  later  writers,  who  are  yet  wor- 
thy of  credit,  and  of  whom  accounts  and  fragments  have 
been  preserved,  especially  in  the  collections  of  Stobaeus. 
"  They  regarded  anarchy,"  says  Aristoxenus,^  "  as  the 
greatest  evil  ;  because  man  cannot  exist  without  social 
order.  They  held  that  every  thing  depended  on  the  re- 
lation between  the  governing  and  the  governed  ;  that 
the  former  should  be  not  only  })rudent,  but  mild  ;  and 
that  the  latter  should  not  only  obey,  but  love  their  magis- 
trates ;  that  it  was  necessary  to  grow  accustomed  even 
in  boyhood  to  regard  order  and  harmony  as  beautiful  and 
useful,  disorder  and  confusion  as  liEitefid  and  injurious." 
From  the  fragments  of  the  writings  of  the  early  Pytha- 
goreans, as  of  Archytas,  Diotogenes,  and  Hippodamus,^ 
we  perceive  that  tliey  were  not  blindly  attached  to  a 
single  form  of  government  ;  but  only  insisted  that  there 
should  be  no  unlawful  tyranny.  Where  a  royal  govern- 
ment existed,  kings  should  be  subject  to  the  laws,  and 
act  only  as  the  chief  magistrates.^  They  regarded  a 
mixed  constitution  as  the  best ;  and  although  they  were 
far  from  desiring  unlimited  democracies,  they  desired 
quite  as  little  unlimited  aristocracies;   but  even  where  the 

*  Stob.  Serm.  xli.  p.  243.  This  evidence  is  taken  either  from  Aristoxeniis,  or 
from  Aristotle  himself,  and  therefore,  according'  to  Meiners,  not  to  be  rejected. 

-  Meiners  considers  nil  these  writinrrs  as  not  s^enuine.  Uis  reasoning-  how- 
ever does  not  apply  to  the  political  fragments,  whiclj  are  to  be  found  in  cap.  xli. 
and  xliii. 

'    See  in  particular  the  fragments  of  Archytas.     Seim   xliv.  p.  314. 


286  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

administration  resided  principally  in  the  hands  of  the 
upper  class,  they  reserved  a  share  of  it  for  the  people.^ 

Though  the  political  agency  of  the  society  terminated 
with  its  dissolution,  the  Pythagorean  lessons  by  no  means 
became  extinct.  They  were  extended  through  Greece 
with  the  writings  of  the  Pythagoreans,  who  were  paid 
with  high  prices ;  but  in  that  country  they  gained  polit- 
ical importance,  only  so  far  as  they  contributed  to  the 
education  of  individual  distinguished  men.  Of  these, 
we  need  only  to  mention  Epaminondas. 

In  Greece,  the  sophists  are  generally  considered  to 
have  been  the  first,  who  applied  philosophy  to  political 
science,  which  then  became  a  subject  of  scientific  instruc- 
tion. Yet  Plutarch,  in  a  remarkable  passage,^  speaks  of 
a  political  school  which  had  been  kept  up  in  Athens, 
from  the  time  of  Solon.  "  Themistocles,"  says  he, 
"could  not  have  been  a  pupil  of  Anaxagoras,  as  some 
contend.  He  was  a  disciple  of  Mnesiphilus,  who  was 
neither  an  orator,  nor  one  of  the  physical  philosophers;^ 
but  who  was  employed  on  that  kind  of  wisdom,  which 
consists  in  political  skill  and  practical  sagacity,  and  which 
from  the  time  of  Solon,  had  been  preserved  as  in  a 
school."  That  a  man  like  Solon  should  have  gathered 
around  himself  a  circle  which  he  made  acquainted  with 
his  thoughts  and  maxims,  was  not  only  natural,  but  was 
necessary  for  the  preservation  of  his  code  of  laws  ;  and 
it  was  not  less  natural  that  his  younger  friends  should  in 
turn  deliver  to  theirs  the  principles  of  that  venerable 
sauc.     But   the   words  of  the   biographer  himself,  show 

'   Compare  the  fragment  of  Diotogcnes,  cap.  xlvi.  p   320. 
-  In  Themistocles,  Op.  i.  p.  440. 
■'  The  Ii-niaii  and  Eleatic  sages 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        287 

clearly  enough,  that  no  methodical  instruction  was  given ; 
but  principles  of  practical  wisdom,  consisting  in  maxims 
for  the  conducting  of  public  affairs,  and  drawn  from  ex- 
perience ;  maxims  of  which  the  few  remaining  poetical 
fragments  of  the  lawgiver  contain  so  valuable  a  store. 

From  this  practical  direction,  the  Grecian  philosophers 
after  the  times  of  Pythagoras  entirely  withdrew ;  and 
devoted  themselves  altogether  to  metaphysical  specula- 
tions. They  were  employed  in  inquiries  respecting  the 
elements,  and  the  nature  of  things  ;  and  came  necessa- 
rily upon  thf3  question,  which  has  so  often  been  repeated, 
and  which  never  can  be  answered,  respecting  the  truth 
or  falsehood  of  the  perceptions  of  our  senses.  We 
know  with  what  zeal  these  inquiries  were  made  in  the 
Eleatic  school.  They  employed  in  a  great  measure 
Xenophanes,  Parmenides,  Hcraclitus,  Empedocles,  and 
others.  If  therefore  we  read  of  individuals  among  these 
men,  that  they  attained  to  political  eminence,^  their  phi- 
losophy was  connected  with  their  political  station  only 
so  far  as  they  tlius  became  conspicuous  ;  and  because 
wise  men  were  selected  for  counsellors.  In  one  point  a 
nearer  relation  existed  bet^^een  their  philosophy  and 
the  state  ;  we  mean  in  their  diminishing  or  attempting 
to  diminish  the  respect  for  the  popular  religion.  In  a 
country  where  the  religion  was  a  poetical  one,  and  where 
philosophy  had  become  entirely  distinct  from  religion,  the 
spirit  of  free,  unlimited  speculation,  on  its  awakening, 
could  not  but  scrutinize  the  popular  faith,  and  soon  de- 
tect its  weaknesses.  This  we  hear  was  done  by  Xeno- 
phanes, who  with  equal  boldness  used  bitter  expressions 

'  As  Empedocles  in   Agrigentum  ;  who  is  said  to  have  refused  tiie  diadem, 
and  confirmed  the  liberties  of  the  people.     Diog.  LaOrt.  viii.  ii.  0. 


288  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

respecting  the  gods  and  the  epic  poets  who  have  invent^ 
ed  about  the  gods  such  indecent  fables.^  This  contra- 
diction between  philosophy  and  the  popular  religion,  is 
on  the  one  side  the  most  certain  proof  of  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  former ;  but  it  was  also  the  point,  in  which 
the  state  and  philosophy  came  in  contact,  not  without 
danger  to  the  state,  and  if  not  to  philosophy  itself,  yet  to 
the  philosophers. 

Yet  however  far  the  speculations  of  those  reasoners 
were  removed  from  the  state  and  from  politics,  the  spirit 
of  the  times  and  necessity  created  many  points  of  con- 
tact ;  which  serve  to  explain  the  appearance  of  the  soph- 
ists, and  the  part  which  they  acted.  Without  regarding 
their  doctrines,  w^e  may  find  their  external  character  de- 
signated by  the  circumstance,  that  they  were  the  first 
who  gave  instruction  for  pay.  This  presupposes  that 
the  want  of  scientific  instruction  began  to  be  felt ;  and 
this  again  imj)lies,  that  independent  of  such  instruction, 
tiu;  nation  had  made  progress  in  intellectual  culture.  In 
other  words  ;  he  who  desired  to  become  distinguished  in 
the  state,  i'elt  the  necessity  of  improving  his  mind  by 
instruction.  He  was  obliii'cd  to  learn  to  S])eak,  and 
therefore  to  think  ;  and  exercises  in  these  two  things 
constituted  the  whole  instruction  of  the  sophists.  But 
it  v\  as  of  giea.t  importance,  that  the  minds  of  men  had 
b{  oil  eniploved  and  continued  to  be  emj)]oyed  so  much 
with  tliose  metaphysical  questions,  which,  as  they  from 
tlieir  vcMv  natnr(>  can  never  be  answered  with  certainty, 
are  well  suited  for  disputation,  and  admit  so  various 
a]is\vei"S. 

FioiD    the   copious   inquiries  which   have    been    made 

'   Dio"'.  Lafirt.  ix.  ii.  3. 


SCIENCES   IN  CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.        289 

respecting  the  sophists  by  modern  writers  of  the  history 
of  philosophy/  and  from  the  preceding  remarks,  it  is 
sufficiently  evident  that  they  were  a  fruit  of  the  age.  It 
is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  most  celebrated  of  them 
came  from  the  most  various  parts  of  the  Grecian  world ; 
Gorgias,  who  begins  the  series  from  Leonitium  in  Si- 
cily ;  Protagoras  from  Abdera  on  the  coast  of  Thrace  ; 
Hippias  from  Colophon  in  Asia  Minor;  not  to  mention  a 
multitude  of  those  who  were  less  famous.  This  is  a  re- 
markable proof,  how  generally,  since  the  Persian  wars, 
a  literary  spirit  had  begun  to  animate  the  nation.  Most 
of  those  men,  it  is  true,  removed  to  Athens  ;  to  which 
place  Gorgias  was  sent  as  ambassador  during  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war ;  because  this  city,  so  long  as  it  held  the 
first  rank,  opened  the  widest  and  most  profitable  theatre 
for  their  exertions ;  but  they  also  often  travelled  through 
the  cities  of  Greece   in   the   train    of  their   pupils ;  met 

'  Yet  even  after  all  that  has  licre  been  done  by  Meiners,  Tenneman,  and 
others,  manj  things  remain  obscure  ;  for  the  explanation  of  which,  the  founda- 
tion must  be  laid  in  a  more  accurate  chronology  of  the  sophists.  The  learned 
dissertation  of  Geel  Histuria  Critica  Sophistarum,  qui  Socratis  atate  Micnis  fio- 
ruerunt  in  Kova  Ada  litcraria  Socictatis  Rhcno  TrajcctincB  1823,  treats  only  of 
the  age  of  Socrates  ;  yet  it  explains  the  difference  between  rhetoricians 
and  sopiiists  ;  and  the  causes  of  the  origin  of  the  sophists.  Even  the  sophists 
before  the  Macedonian  times  (of  a  later  period  we  here  make  no  mention,)  did 
not  continue  the  same  ;  and  we  should  do  Gorgias  and  Protagoras  great  injus- 
tice, were  we  to  place  them  in  the  same  rank  with  those,  .ngainstwhom  the  aged 
Isocrates  in  his  Panathenaicus,  Op.  p.  23G,  and  De  Sophistis,  p.  2!)3,  makes  such 
bitter  complaints.  Gorgias,  Protagoras,  and  Hippias,  were  commonly  called  the 
elder  sophists  ;  of  whom  Gorgias  is  said  to  have  come  to  Athens  In  the  year 
427  as  ambassador,  although  this  is  not  mentioned  by  Thucydides.  But  it 
is  evident  from  Aristophanes,  who  brought  his  Clouds  upon  the  stage,  for 
the  first  time,  424  years  B.  C,  that  at  that  epoch,  the  sophists  liad  already 
been  long  established  at  Athens.  It  appears  that  the  great  celebrity  and 
wealth  of  the  sophists  commenced  in  the  times  of  Gorgias  and  the  follow- 
ing. In  the  Clouds,  Socrates  and  his  pupils  are  represented  so  far  from  being 
rich,  as  poor  wretches,  who  do   not  know  how  they  are  to  subsist  from  one  day 

to  another. 

37 


290  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

with  the  kindest  reception  ;  and  were  employed  as  coun- 
sellors in  public  affairs,  and  not  unfrequentlj  as  ambas- 
sadors. Thej  gave  instruction  at  a  high  price  to  all 
joung  men  who  joined  them,  in  every  branch  of  know- 
ledge, deemed  essential  to  their  education.  This  un- 
doubtedly occasioned  that  boasting  of  universal  know- 
ledge, which  has  been  laid  to  their  charge  ;  but  it  must 
also  be  remembered,  that  in  those  days  the  extent  of  the 
sciences  was  still  very  limited. 

The  sophists  at  first  embraced  in  their  course  of  in- 
struction, philosophy  as  well  as  rhetoric.  But  that  which 
they  called  philosophy,  was,  as  with  the  scholastic  phi- 
losophers, the  art  of  confounding  an  opponent  by  syllo- 
gisms and  sophisms;  and  the  subjects  about  which  they 
were  most  fond  of  speculating,  were  some  of  those  meta- 
physical questions,  respecting  which  we  ought  finally  to 
learn,  that  we  never  can  know  any  thing.  This  kind  of 
reasoning,  since  disputation  and  speaking  were  taught, 
was  very  closely  connected  with  rlietoric.  Subsequently 
tiie  sophists  and  rhetoricians  formed  distinct  classes  ;  but 
th(;  different  classes,  which  Isocrates  distinguished  in  his 
old  age,^  could  hardly  have  been  so  decidedly  marked  in 
his  youth. 

The  precepts  and  the  very  name  of  th.e  sophists  be- 
cam(>  odious  among  the  ancients  ;  and  it  would  be  in 
vain  toattem])tto  free  them  entirely  from  the  rc^proaches, 
which  were  cast  on  them  by  sages  and  by  the  comic 
\Mit(>rs.  But  y(^t  they  cannot  be  deprived  of  the  glory 
of  liavin2;  made  the  higher  class  of  their  nation  sensible 
of  \hv  nec(^ssitv  of  a  liberal  education.  They  rose  rapidly 
and  extraordinarily,  because  they  were  deeply  connected 

'  Isocratos,  Op.  p.  2133,  etc. 


SCIENCES   IN    CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.         291 

with  the  wants  of  the  times.  In  states,  where  every 
thing  was  discussed  orally,  and  where  every  thing  was 
just  beginning  to  bloom,  the  instructers  in  logic  and  rhe- 
toric could  not  but  be  acceptable.  But  in  two  respects, 
they  soon  became  injurious  and  even  dangerous  to  the 
state  ;  by  reducing  eloquence  to  the  mere  art  of  disputing, 
and  by  degrading  or  ridiculing  the  popular  religion. 

The  first  seems  to  have  been  a  very  natural  conse- 
quence of  the  condition  of  the  sciences  at  that  time. 
The  more  limited  is  the  knowledge  of  men,  the  more 
bold  are  they  in  their  assertions  ;  the  less  they  know,  the 
more  they  believe  they  do  and  can  know.  Man  per- 
suades himself  of  nothing  more  readily,  than  that  he  has 
arrived  at  the  bounds  of  human  knowledge.  This  belief 
creates  in  him  a  dogmatical  spirit ;  because  he  believes 
he  can  prove  every  thing.  But  where  it  is  believed,  that 
every  thing  can  be  proved,  there  naturally  arises  the  art 
of  proving  the  contrary  proposition  ;  and  the  art  of  dis- 
puting among  the  sophists  degenerated  to  this.  The  art 
of  confounding  right  and  wrong,  objected  to  them  by  the 
comic  poets,  may  have  had  a  very  injurious  influence  on 
social  life  ;  but  a  greater  evil  resulting  from  it  was  the 
destroying  of  a  nice  sense  of  truth  ;  for  even  truth  itself 
becomes  contemptible,  when  it  is  believed,  that  it  can  as 
well  be  refuted,  as  established,  by  an  argument. 

That  the  popular  religion  was  held  in  less  esteem,  was 
probably  a  consequence  of  the  more  intimate  connection, 
which  existed  between  the  elder  sophists  and  their  pre- 
decessors and  contemporaries  of  the  Eleatic  school.  In 
these  accusations  injustice  has  perhaps  been  done  to  some 
of  them  ;  for  it  may  be  doubted  whether  Protagoras  de- 


292  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

served  the  name  of  atheist  ;^  jet  no  circumstance  pro- 
bably contributed  so  much  to  make  them  odious  in  the 
eyes  of  the  people. 

If  to  these  things  we  add  their  lax  moral  principles, 
which  consisted  in  lessons  of  prudence,  how  life  could  be 
made  easy  and  be  enjoyed,  but  which  doubtless  assisted 
in  procuring  for  them  pupils  and  followers,  we  can  survey 
all  the  evil  influence  which  they  exercised.  And  yet 
these  very  aberrations  of  the  human  understanding  may 
have  been  necessary,  to  awaken  the  minds  which  were 
to  point  out  better  paths. 

The  son  of  Sophroniscus  is  the  first  among  these.  He 
began  the  opposition  to  the  sophists.  Just  as  Philip 
called  forth  a  Demosthenes,  the  sophists  produced  a 
Socrates.  After  all  that  antiquity  has  left  us  concerning 
him,  and  all  the  observations  of  modern  historians,  he  is 
one  of  the  characters  most  difficult  to  be  understood,  and 
stands  by  himself,  not  only  in  his  own  nation,  but  in  the 
whole  history  of  the  culture  of  our  race.  For  what  sage, 
who  was  neither  a  public  teacher,  nor  a  writer,  nor  a 
religious  reformer,  has  had  such  an  influence  on  his  own 
age  and  on  posterity,  as  he  ?  We  willingly  concede,  that 
his  sphere  of  action  has  far  exceeded  his  own  expecta- 
tions and  designs.  These  hardly  had  reference  to  poste- 
rity. Every  thing  seems  to  indicate,  that  they  were 
calculated  for  his  contemporaries  alone.  But  it  may  with 
justice  be  remarked,  that  this  only  increases  the  difficulty 
of  an  explanation.     For  who  will   not  ask ;   How  could 


'  lie  liad  only  said  ho  knew  not  whether  the  gods  existed  or  not ;  yet  for  this 
he  was  banislied  from  Athens,  and  his  writings  were  burnt.  Sext.  Emp.  ix.  57, 
That  the  atheism  of  Prodicus  is  uncertain,  has  been  already  observed  by  Tenue- 
laann.     Gesch.  d.  Phil.  i.  S.  377. 


SCIENCES  IN   CONNECTION   WITH  THE   STATE.         293 

this  man,  without  intending  it,  have  had  an  influence  on 
all  centuries  after  his  time  ?  The  chief  reason  is  to  be 
found  in  the  nature  of  his  philosophy ;  yet  external 
causes  came  to  his  assistance. 

After  so  many  have  written  upon  his  philosophy,  it 
would  be  superfluous  to  delineate  it  anew.  It  made  its 
way,  because  it  immediately  related  to  the  higher  matters 
of  interest  to  man.  While  the  sophists  were  brooding 
over  mere  speculations,  and  their  contests  were  but  con- 
tests of  words,  Socrates  taught  those  who  came  near 
him,  to  look  into  themselves ;  man  and  his  relations  with 
the  world  were  the  objects  of  his  investigations.  That 
we  may  not  repeat  what  has  already  been  so  well  re- 
marked by  others,  we  will  here  allow  ourselves  only  some 
general  observations  respecting  the  philosopher  himself 
and  his  career. 

His  influence  was  most  closely  connected  with  the 
forms  of  social  life  in  Athens  ;  in  a  country  where  these 
are  not  the  same,  a  second  Socrates  could  never  exercise 
the  influence  of  the  first.  He  gave  instruction  neither  in 
his  house,  nor  in  any  fixed  place;  the  public  squares  and 
halls  were  the  favorite  scenes  of  his  conversations.  For 
such  instruction  a  proper  audience  can  be  found  only  in 
a  nation,  in  which  private  life  is  in  a  very  high  degree 
public  in  its  nature.  This  was  the  case  with  the  Athe- 
nians. Such  a  method  of  teaching  could  be  effectual 
among  them,  because  they  were  not  only  accustomed  to 
pass  a  large  portion  of  the  day  in  places  of  public  resort, 
but  also  to  speak  of  almost  every  subject  which  could 
occur.  It  was  here  that  the  sophists  passed  much  of 
their  time,  not  to  give  formal  instruction,  which,  as  it  was 
paid  for,  was  given  in  a  definite  place,  but,  as  Plato  re- 


294  CHAPTER   FOURTEENTH. 

proaches  them,  in  order  to  gain  rich  young  men  as  pupils. 
The  war  which  Socrates  had  once  for  all  declared  against 
them,  made  him  from  choice  and  most  frequently,  pass 
his  time,  where  he  could  expect  to  find  his  adversaries, 
as  well  as  his  friends  and  followers.^ 

The  manner  in  which  he  taught,  was  not  less  impor- 
tant. It  was  by  conversation,  not  by  continued  discourse. 
He  had  therefore  adopted  the  very  manner  which  is  most 
suitable  to  public  places.  But  in  two  respects,  his  con- 
versation, apart  from  the  matter  it  contained,  was  distin- 
guished from  the  common  intercourse  of  life.  The  one 
was  the  irony  which  he  knew  how  to  introduce,  espe- 
cially in  his  attacks  on  the  sophists  ;  the  other  and  more 
important,  was  the  conviction  which  he  often  expressed, 
that  he  spoke  from  the  impulse  of  divine  power.  Socrates 
differs  from  the  whole  class  of  men,  whom  we  embrace 
under  the  name  of  prophets  ;  for,  while  these  appear  as 
the  immediate  envoys  and  messengers  of  the  Divinity,  he 
did  but  occasionally  insinuate  his  claim  to  this  character, 
although  he  never  denied  it.  He  neither  desired  to  found 
a  new  religion,  nor  to  improve  the  existing  one  ;  which 
was  necessarily  the  object  of  the  prophets.  The  appear- 
ance of  a  Socrates  was  therefore  the  noblest  result  of  the 
separation  of  philosophy  from  religion,  a  merit  belonging 
solely  to  the  Greeks  ;  in  no  Eastern  nation  could  a 
Socrates  have  found  his  sphere. 

'  From  this  point  of  roseuiblaiice,  I  think  we  may  explain  how  Aristophanes 
could  conibund  Socrates  with  the  sophists.  Pie  represents  him  as  givinsj  instruc- 
tion for  money,  and  in  a  house  of  his  own,  appropriated  to  study  ((pnorTtaTi'/iior)  ; 
and  these  two  circumstances  are  true  of  the  sophists,  but  not  of  Socrates.  I  can 
tiierefore  discover  in  his  Socrates  nothine;  but  the  representative  of  the  sophists. 
To  l)e  sure  the  comic  poet  would  have  better  provided  for  his  reputation  with 
;)ostcrity,  if  he  had  brought  a  Prodicus  or  Gorgips  upon  the  stage  instead  of 
Socrates. 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        295 

But  he  became  a  martyr  to  his  doctrines.  It  would 
be  superfluous  to  prove  anew,  the  groundlessness  of  the 
charges,  that  he  denied  the  popular  religion,  and  was  a 
corrupter  of  the  youth. ^  But  we  will  not  neglect  to  ob- 
serve, that  by  his  death  he  produced  even  more  impor- 
tant consequences  than  by  his  life.  If  he  had  been 
snatched  away  by  sickness,  who  knows  whether  he 
would  have  been  remembered  more  than  other  meritorious 
instructors  ?  His  friends  and  pupils  would  have  spoken 
of  him  with  respect,  but  hardly  with  enthusiasm.  But 
the  poisoned  cup  ensured  him  immortality.  By  his 
death,  in  connection  with  his  doctrines,  he  exhibited  in 
reality  one  of  those  sublime  ideal  conceptions,  of  which 
the  Grecian  nation  alone  is  so  fertile  ;  he  presented  what 
till  then  had  been  wanting,  the  image  of  a  sage  who 
dies  for  his  convictions. 

The  philosophy  of  Socrates  had  no  immediate  rela- 
tions with  politics.  Its  object  was  man,  considered  as  a 
moral  being,  not  as  a  citizen.  Hence  it  was  indirectly 
of  the  more  importance  to  the  state  ;  since  it  was  no- 
thing less  than  an  attempt  to  meet  the  ruin,  with  which 
the  state  was  threatened  by  a  false  kind  of  philosophy. 
This  object  was  not  fully  attained  ;  but  must  the  blame 
of  the  failure  be  attributed  to  Socrates  ? 

From  his  school,  or  rather,  from  his  circle,  a  number 
of  distinguished  minds  were  produced,  who  in  part  dif- 
fered from  each  other  in  their  opinions  and  systems,  as 
opposite  poles.  This  could  not  have  happened,  l)ut  be- 
cause Socrates  had  no  system,  and  hence  laid  no  chains 
on  the  spirit  of  inquiry.     He  would  but  excite  the  minds 

'   See,  beside  the  works  on    the   history  of  philosophy,  the  Essay  of  Tyclisen, 
Ueber  den  Process  dcs  Socrates,  in  Bibl.  d.  alten  Litt.  u.  Kunst.  St.  1.  2. 


296  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

of  Others ;  and  hence  we  perceive  how  there  could  have 
been  among  his  associates,  an  Antisthenes,  who  made 
self-denial,  and  an  Aristippus,  who  made  enjoyment,  the 
basis  of  ethics  ;  a  Pjrrho,  whose  object  it  was  to  doubt, 
and  a  Euclid,  who  was  eager  to  demonstrate.  As  the 
philosophy  of  these  men  was  in  no  manner  connected 
with  politics,  we  pass  over  them  ;  that  we  may  not  leave 
unmentioned  the  greatest  of  all  the  pupils  of  Socrates. 

To  comprehend  the  character  of  Plato,  a  genius  would 
be  required,  hardly  inferior  to  his.  Common  or  even 
uncommon  philosophic  acumen,  industry,  and  learning  in 
this  case  are  not  sufficient.  The  mind  of  Plato  rose 
above  visible  objects,  and  entered  on  the  higher  regions, 
where  exist  the  eternal  first  forms  of  things.  To  these 
his  eye  was  undeviatingly  directed,  as  the  only  regions 
where  knowledge  can  be  found,  —  since  there  is  nothing 
beyond  opinion  in  the  world  of  the  senses,  —  and  where 
real  beauty,  goodness,  and  justice  dwell  eternal  and  un- 
changeable as  the  Divinity,  and  yet  distinct  from  the 
Divinity.  He  who  cannot  follow  Plato  to  those  regions, 
and  feel  with  him  in  the  veil  of  mythological  fables,  what 
he  himself  felt  rather  than  knew  ;  may  make  many  val- 
uable and  correct  remarks  respecting  that  philosopher,' 
but  is  not  capable  of  presenting  a  perfect  and  adequate 
image  of  him.  The  attempt  to  give  a  body  to  that 
which  is  ethereal,  is  vain;  for  it  then  ceases  to  be  ethe- 
real. But  tlie  relation  in  which  he  stood  to  his  nation 
can  be  very  distinctly  delineated.  In  him  the  poetic 
character  of  the  Greeks  expressed  itself  philosophically. 
It  was  only  in  a  nation  so  thoroughly  poetical,  that  a 
Plato  could  be  produced. 

Socrates   had  contemplated  man  as  a   moral   being; 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION   WITH  THE   STATE.         297 

Plato's  philosophy  embraced  the  social  union.  Long 
before  him,  the  state  had  so  far  become  an  object  of 
speculation,  that  writers  had  endeavored  to  sketch  the 
model  of  a  perfect  constitution.  No  more  immediate  oc- 
casion for  such  exercise  could  be  found  than  in  the  Gre- 
cian cities,  which  formed  as  it  were  the  model  of  a  chart 
of  free  states ;  which  by  means  of  their  wants  and 
changes,  almost  necessarily  conducted  the  reflecting  mind 
to  such  objects  of  thought.  The  first  distinct  attempt 
of  this  kind,  as  we  expressly  learn  from  Aristotle,^  was 
made  by  Hi])podamus  of  Miletus,  who  must  have  been 
a  contemporary  of  Themistocles.^  The  marked  separa- 
tion of  the  three  classes  of  artists,  agriculturists,  and  sol- 
diers ;  and  the  division  which  he  makes  of  land  into  sa- 
cred, public,  and  private  land,  remind  us  of  the  Egyptian 
institutions.  Not  only  his  plan,  but  that  of  Phaneas  of 
Chalcedon,  is  discussed  at  large  by  Aristotle.  Investi- 
gations of  constitutions  and  codes  of  laws  now  be- 
came subjects  frequently  treated  of;  they  could  hardly 
have  much  practical  influence,  since  the  days  were  past 
in  which  new  lawi^ivers  could  have  appeared  in  Greece. 
Of  many  works  composed  in  those  times,  none  have 
come  down  to  us  but  the  two  treatises  of  Plato.  These, 
especially  that  of  the  republic,  are  intelligible  only  to 
those  who  comprehend  and  bear  always  in  mind,  that  the 
Greeks  regarded  a  state  as  a  moral  person,  which  gov- 
erns itself,  and  cannot  be  swayed  by  any  impulse  from 
a  higher  power,^  nor  be  governed   by  another.     Then  it 

'  Aristot.  Polit.  it.  cap.  8. 

"According  to  Aristotle,  he  was  employed  in  tiie  construction  of  the  Pirjeeus, 
which  was  the  work  of  Themistocles. 

"  We  would  hero  especially   refer  to  the    following  excellent  treatise.     J.  L. 

G.  de  Geer.     Diatribe  in  Politices  Platonicce    Principia.     Trajeati  ad  Rhenum, 

1810. 

3s 


298  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

is  no  longer  difficult  to  explain  the  close  and  indissoluble 
union  between  morals  and  politics,  a  union  which  modern 
writers  have  so  frequently  called  in  question. 

During  the  days  of  the  freedom  of  Greece,  almost 
every  grand  question  connected  with  theoretical  or  prac- 
tical philosophy,  was  made  the  object  of  inquiry  and  dis- 
cussion. The  later  writers  may  perhaps  have  answered 
them  differently  and  with  greater  acuteness  ;  but  to  the 
earliest  belongs  the  great  merit  of  having  presented  to 
the  reflecting  mind,  the  objects  after  which  they  should 
strive.  The  relations  of  the  later  systems  of  Grecian 
philosophy  to  the  earlier  ones,  show  how  far  the  Stoic 
system  was  allied  to  the  Cynic,  the  Epicurean  to  the 
Cyrenaic,  that  of  the  later  skeptics  to  that  of  Pyrrho  and 
the  Eleatic  school,  —  these  subjects  we  leave  to  be  ex- 
plained by  some  writer,  who  is  capable  of  giving,  not  a 
voluminous,  but  succinct  and  spirited  account  of  the  ef- 
forts made  among  the  Greeks  by  the  understanding,  as 
em])loycd  on  subjects  of  philosophy. 

If  the  relation  of  philosophy  to  the  political  institutions 
must  be  estimated  by  its  reaction  on  them,  the  reverse 
is  in  some  measure  true  of  the  science  of  history.  This 
stands  in  connection  with  the  state,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the 
result  of  the  changes  and  destinies  of  the  state.  It  is 
true,  that  history  was  not  long  limited  among  the  Greeks 
to  their  own  nation.  As  there  was  free  intercourse  with 
foreigners,  accounts  and  traditions  respecting  their  origin, 
manners,  and  revolutions  became  common.  But  every- 
thing ])roceeded  from  the  history  of  their  native  country  ; 
this  always  remained  the  central  point.  And  here  again 
wo  })erceive  the  just  views  of  the  Greeks.  Is  not  each 
nation   t\m   nearest  object   to  itself?    And  next   to  the 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION  WITH   THE  STATE.         299 

present  moment,  what  can  interest  it  more  than  its  own 
previous  condition  ? 

This  was  early  and  very  generally  felt ;  and  if  histori- 
cal accounts  have  been  preserved  but  scantily  or  not  at 
all,  the  fault  is  to  be  attributed,  not  to  the  want  of  exer- 
tions to  ensure  that  end,  but  to  the  imperfection  of  the 
means  which  the  nations  could  control ;  that  is,  not 
merely  to  the  want  of  an  alphabet,  but  of  the  materials 
which  are  used  in  writing.  Persepolis,  Thebes,  Mexi- 
co, —  do  not  all  these  furnish  distinct  proofs  of  the  truth 
of  our  remark  ? 

But  not  less  depended  on  the  circumstance,  whether 
any  persons,  a  peculiar  class  or  cast  in  the  nation,  were 
commissioned  to  record  the  events  as  they  passed. 
Where  a  priesthood  existed,  the  preparing  of  the  calen- 
dar, however  imperfect  or  perfect  it  might  be,  Wcis  their 
business  ;  and  to  this  it  was  easy  to  add  the  writing  of 
annals. 

The  Greeks  had  no  such  separate  order  of  priests  ; 
and  hence  we  hear  nothing  of  any  annals  which  they 
possessed.'  Yet  religion  still  did  something  for  history. 
A  multitude  of  relations,  preserving  the  memory  of  early 
events,  were  associated  with  the  consecrated  offerings  in 
the  temples.  How  often  are  these  referred  to  by  Hero- 
dotus ?  and  the  historical  remarks  of  Pausanias  are 
almost  always  made  in  connection  with  them.  But  they 
could  neither  fix  a  succession  of  time,  nor  do  more  than 
confirm  single  facts. 

'  Where  a  sort  of  hereditary  priesthood  existed,  as  in  Sicyon,  from  the  earliest 
times,  a  sort  of  annals  was  connected  with  it.  They  seem,  however,  to  have 
consisted  chiefly  in  an  enumeration  of  the  succession  of  priests,  and  therefore 
hardly  deserve  the  name. 


300  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

The  history,  therefore,  of  the  Greeks  emanated  from 
an  entirely  different  source,  from  tradition  ;  and  since 
this  supplied  poetry  with  its  subjects,  the  poets  remained 
for  centuries  the  sole  preservers  of  traditional  accounts. 
But  it  does  not  follow,  that  Grecian  history  was  an  in- 
vention, because  it  was  originally  poetical.  Indeed,  it 
never  entirely  lost  that  character.  The  subjects  of  his- 
tory, as  presented  by  tradition,  were  only  interwoven 
with  fictions.  But  it  is  obvious  of  itself,  that  the  char- 
acter of  the  Grecian  traditions  must  have  had  a  great 
or  even  a  decisive  influence  on  the  character  of  their 
history. 

By  means  of  the  original  and  continued  division  of  the 
nation  into  many  tribes,  the  traditions  were  very  much 
enriched.  Each  tribe  had  its  heroes  and  its  deeds  of 
valor  to  employ  the  bard.  To  convince  ourselves  of  this, 
we  need  but  cast  a  glance  on  the  tales  of  the  Grecian 
heroes.  Individuals  among  them,  who  were  more  dis- 
tjnguislied  than  the  rest,  as  Hercules  and  Jason,  became 
the  heroes  of  the  nation,  and  therefore  the  favorites  of 
the  poets.  And  after  the  first  great  national  enterprize, 
after  Troy  had  fallen,  need  we  be  astonished  that  the 
historic  muse  preferred  this  to  all  other  subjects  ? 

All  this  is  too  well  known  to  need  any  more  copious 
exposition.^  But  much  as  Homer  and  the  cyclic  poets 
eclipsed  the  succeeding  ones,  historic  poetry  kept  pace 
with  the  political  culture  of  the  nation.  This  union  we 
must  not  leave  unobserved. 

That  advancement  in  political  culture  was,  as  we 
observed  above,  connected  with  the  rising  prosperity  of 

'  See  Heyne.  HistoriEe   scribendte  inter  Greecos  primordia.     Comment.  Soc. 
Sc.  Getting,  vol.  xiv. 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION   WITH  THE   STATE.  301 

the  cities  in  Greece  and  of  the  colonies.  The  founding 
of  cities  (y-iiaeig)  therefore  formed  an  essential  part  of  the 
earlier  history.  But  cities  were  founded  bj  heroes  ;  and 
the  traditions  respecting  these  things  were  therefore  in- 
timately connected  with  the  rest.  Who  does  not  see, 
how  wide  a  field  was  here  opened  for  historic  poetry  ? 
Such  narrations  had  always  a  lasting  interest  for  the 
inhabitants  ;  they  were  by  their  very  nature,  of  a  kind 
to  be  exaggerated  till  they  became  marvellous ;  and 
were  connected  with  accounts  of  the  most  ancient 
voyages ;  stories  of  the  wonders  of  foreign  and  distant 
countries  ;  the  island  of  the  Cyclops,  the  garden  of  the 
Hesperides,  the  rich  Iberia,  and  others.  What  could 
afiford  more  agreeable  nourishment  to  the  imagination  of 
a  youthful  people  ?  What  could  be  more  attractive  to 
the  poets  ? 

Hence  there  arose  among  the  Greeks  a  particular 
class  of  historic  poems,  which,  though  in  subject  and 
form  most  intimately  connected  with  other  poems,  were 
yet  specially  commemorative  of  the  founding  of  the 
several  cities.  The  class  embraced,  it  is  true,  cities  of 
the  mother  country  ;^  but  chiefly  related  to  the  colonies  ; 
for  their  establishment,  intimately  interwoven  with  the 
history  of  heroes,  offered  the  richest  materials. 

History  continued  to  be  treated  in  a  poetical  manner, 
till  near  the  time  of  the  Persian  wars.  How  deeply, 
therefore,  must  the  poetic  character  have  been  imprinted 
upon  Grecian   history  ?     Experience   has  taught  that  it 

'  Especially  Athens.  Here  is  the  source  of  the  lake  Atthides.  So  too  Eu- 
melus  has  celebrated  in  song  the  oldest  history  of  Corinth.  Bibliothek  d.  alten 
Litt.  und  Kunst.  ii.  94.  Of  narratives  respecting  colonies,  we  would  cite  that  of 
Herodotus  on  the  origin  of  Cyrene  ;  of  wliich  the  poetic  source  seems  unques- 
tionable.    How  many  similar  relations  in  Pausanias  betray  the  same  origin  .= 


302  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

was  indelibly  so.  When  the  first  writers  appeared  who 
made  use  of  prose,  this  character  was  changed  only  with 
respect  to  the  form,  but  by  no  means  to  the  matter. 
They  related  in  prose  what  the  poets  had  told  in  verse. 
This  is  expressly  stated  by  Strabo.^  "  The  earliest 
writers,"  says  he,  "  Cadmus  of  Miletus,  Pherecydes, 
Hecatseus,  preserved  the  poetic  character,  though  not 
the  measure  of  verse.  Those  who  came  after  them, 
were  the  first  to  descend  from  that  height  to  the  present 
style  of  writing."  The  opinion  of  Cicero  seems  there- 
fore to  have  been  ill  founded,  when  he  compares  the 
oldest  historians,  and  particularly  Pherecydes  with  the 
earliest  annalists  of  the  Romans,  Fabius  Pictor  and 
Cato,^  whose  style  was  certainly  not  poetical. 

The  larger  number  and  the  earliest  of  the  narrators  of 
traditions,^  as  Herodotus  styles  them  in  distinction  from 
the  epic  poets,  were  lonians.  Epic  poetry  was  followed 
by  narrations  in  prose,  in  the  very  countries  where  it  had 
been  cultivated  most  successfully.  History  has  left  us 
in  uncertainty  respecting  the  more  immediate  causes  of 
this  change  ;  but  has  not  the  East  always  been  the  land 
of  fables  ?  Here,  where  the  crowd  of  colonial  cities  was 
springing  up,  which  were  founded  toward  the  end  of  the 
heroic  age,  that  class  of  narrations  which  relate  to  these 
subjects,  found  the  most  appropriate  themes.  In  ex- 
plaining therefore  the  origin  of  historic  science  among 
the  Greeks,  it  may  perhaps  be  proper  to  remember, 
that  they  participated  in  the  character  of  the  oriental 
nations ;  although  they  merit  the   glory  of  having  sub- 

'   Strabo,  i.  p.  34. 

'  Cicero  de  Oratore,  ii.  12. 

3  The  /.oynyoucpoi,  as  HecatKUS  and  others. 


SCIENCES   IN    CONNECTION    WITH    THE   STATE.       303 

sequently  given  to  that  science  its   true   and    peculiar 
character. 

But  in  the  period  in  which  the  prose  style  of  narra- 
tion was  thus  forming,  the  improvement  of  historic  science 
appears  to  have  been  promoted  by  several  very  natural 
causes.  The  larger  number  and  the  most  celebrated  of 
those  mythological  historians  lived  and  flourished  in  the 
latter  half  of  the  sixth  century  before  the  christian 
era  ;  that  is,  not  long  before  the  commencement  of  the 
Persian  wars.'  Of  these  the  earliest  are  said  to  have 
been  Cadmus  of  Miletus,  and  Hecataeus  of  the  same 
place,  Acusilaus  of  Argos,  Pherecydes  of  Syros,  Charon 
of  Lampsacus,  and  several  others  whom  Dionysius  of 
Halicarnassus  enumerates.  They  belong  to  the  age  in 
which  the  nation  was  rising  in  youthful  energy  ;  when  it 
was  already  extended  to  the  west  and  the  east,  and  its 
flourishing  cities  were  engaged  in  various  commerce  ; 
when  it  had  become  acquainted  with  many  nations,  and 
travelling  had  begun  to  be  common.  From  the  title  of 
the  works  of  these  narrators  of  traditions,  it  is  evident 
that  they  were  not  careful  to  limit  themselves  to  the 
accounts,  which  they  found  in  the  ancient  epic  poets; 
but  that  they  took  a  wider  range,  embracing  the  history 
of  cities  and  nations,  and  also  the  description  of  the 
coasts  of  the  countries.  A  proof  of  this  is  found  in  the 
catalogue  of  the  writings  of  Hellanicus  the  Lesbian,  one 
of  the  latest  of  them.^ 


'  Between  the  GOth  and  70th  Olympiad,  or  540  —  500  years  B.  C. 

*  See  Creuzer's  Historic  Art  among  the  Greeks  in  its  Origin  and  Progress. 
Compare  Dalihnann's  Historical  Inquiries,  in  the  Life  of  Herodotus,  p.  108, 
especially  on  Hecataeus. 


304  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

These  remarks,  when  considered  in  connection,  will 
serve  to  show  us  the  character  of  history  before  Herodotus. 
It  was  in  its  origin  entirely  Grecian  ;  and  even  when  the 
sphere  of  observation  was  extended  to  foreign  countries, 
kept  pace  with  the  political  advancement  of  the  nation. 
It  preserved  its  poetical  character,  and  therefore  did  not 
become  critical ;  but  it  was  developed  with  perfect  free- 
dom ;  and  was  never  held  by  the  priests  in  bondage  to 
religion.  As  poetry  had  for  a  long  time  been  the  means 
of  its  preservation,  it  became  in  some  measure  the  play 
of  fancy,  (although  epic  poetry  was  much  more  restricted 
than  the  subsequent  lyric  and  tragic)  ;  but  in  return,  as 
it  was  propagated  by  no  hieroglyphics,  it  could  never,  as 
in  Egypt,  degenerate  into  mere  symbolical  narration. 
When  it  came  to  be  transferred  from  poetry  to  prose,  it 
was  necessarily  connected  with  improvements  in  the  art 
of  writing;  and  the  deficiency  of  our  accounts  on  this 
subject^  is  one  of  the  chief  reasons  why  we  are  so  little 
able  to  mark  the  progress  of  its  particular  branches.  But 
whatever  influence  these  causes  may  have  exercised  ;  the 
great  reason  which  retarded  historic  science  before  He- 
rodotus, lay  in  the  want  of  subjects. 

Before  the  Persian  wars,  there  was  no  subject  capable 
of  inspirins;  the  historian.  The  Trojan  war,  the  Argo- 
nautic  exj)edition,  all  great  undertakings,  belonged  to 
tradition,  and  hence  belonged  more  than  half  to  poetry. 
The  narrations  of  the  origin  of  the  individual  cities,  ac- 
counts of  distant  nations  and  countries,  might  gratify 
cnriositv,  miirlit  afford  amusement  :  but  nothins  more. 
There  e.\ist(ul  no  great  national  subject  of  universal  in- 
terest. 

'   See  Wolfii  ProlotTom.  p.  xl.  etc. 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        305 

At  length  came  the  Persian  wars.  The  victory  at 
Marathon  first  awakened  the  spirit  of  valor;  whether 
this  was  more  inflamed  by  the  defeat  at  Thermopylae,  or 
the  victory  at  Salamis,  it  is  difficult  to  say ;  with  the 
battle  of  Plataeae,  freedom  was  saved.  What  a  subject 
for  the  historic  Muse  ! 

This  subject,  from  its  very  nature,  belonged  exclusively 
to  history ;  and  poetry  had  no  share  in  it.  It  was  no 
subject  of  hoary  antiquity,  nor  yet  of  the  present  moment ; 
but  of  a  period  which  had  but  recently  passed  away. 
And  yet  it  came  so  variously  in  contact  with  tradition, 
that  a  historian  in  a  critical  age  would  often  have  been 
compelled  to  take  his  walks  into  the  regions  of  mytho- 
logy. How  much  more,  then,  at  a  time,  when  the 
bounds  between  history  and  tradition  had  not  yet  been 
in  the  slightest  degree  marked  out. 

Herodotus    employed     himself  on    this    subject,    and 
managed  it  in  a  manner  which  surpassed  all  expectation.^ 


'  Dahlinann  in  1S23  published  his  careful  criticism  on  the  life  of  the  father 
of  History,  in  the  second  volume  of  his  Historical  Inquiries.  Herodot. ;  aus 
seinem  Buche  sein  Leben.  The  critic  recognises  the  value  of  the  great  historian, 
to  whose  just  fame  I  hope  by  this  work  to  have  contributed  something  ;  yet  he 
proves,  that  on  many  points  an  uncertainty  prevails,  sufficient  to  warrant  a  dif- 
ference of  opinion.  I  count  among  thsm,  the  time  of  the  composition  and  pub- 
lication of  the  work  of  Herodotus.  Certainly  in  its  present  form,  it  is  not  the 
production  of  his  youth  ;  and  it  is  quite  as  improbable,  that  it  could  have  been 
written  after  his  seventy-seventh  year.  The  mention  by  Dahlmann  of  several 
events  as  late  as  408  B.  C,  warrants  an  inference  only  as  to  the  time  when  IJe- 
rodotus  published  his  work,  not  as  to  the  time  when  he  wrote  it.  The  death  of 
Amyrta-us  of  Syncellus,  as  Dahlmann  remarks,  and  as  the  new  Armenian  edi- 
tion of  Eusebius  confirms,  happened  eight  years  earlier,  that  is  416  B.  C;  and 
if  the  Darius,  mentioned  i.  130,  is  Darius  Nothus,  it  is  surprising,  that  he  is  not 
more  precisely  designated.  The  most  natural  inference  is,  that  Herodotus,  as  a 
young  man,  collected  his  materials  on  his  travels,  wrote  it  at  Thurium  in  tlie  ma- 
turity of  manhood,  about  444  B.  C. ;  but  did  not  publish  it  till  his  old  age.  That 
he  formed  his  design  early  and  travelled  to  further  it,  cannot  be  doubted.  How 
39 


306  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

Many  things,  it  is  true,  served  to  facilitate  his  labor. 
Many  attempts  had  been  made  to  explain  the  earliest 
history  of  cities  and  nations  ;  travelling  had  been  render- 
ed easy  by  the  extensive  commerce  of  the  Grecian  cities, 
and  several  of  his  predecessors  are  known  to  have  visited 
many  countries  ;'  the  mythological  writers  (lr,yo--Q<!c(poi)  had 
already  formed  the  language  for  prosaic  narration ;  and 
the  nation  for  which  he  wrote,  was  already  awake  to  the 
beauties  of  historic  composition.  Still  he  was  the  first 
who  undertook  to  treat  of  a  purely  historical  subject ;  and 
thus  to  take  the  decisive  step,  which  gave  to  history  its 
rank  as  an  independent  science.  Yet  he  did  not  limit 
himself  to  his  chief  subject,  but  gave  it  such  an  extent, 
that  his  work,  notwithstanding  its  epic  unity,  became  in 
a  certain  sense  a  universal  history.^  Continuing  the 
thread  of  his  story  from  the  times  when  controversies  first 
arose  between  the  Hellenes  and  the  barbarians,  till  those 
when  at  Plataese  the  war  was  terminated  so  gloriously  for 
the  Greeks,  Hellas,  attacked  but  liberated,  became  the 
great  subject  of  his  narration  ;  opportunities  were  con- 
stantly ])resenting  themselves  or  were  introduced,  of 
interweaving  th(^  description  and  history  of  the  countries 
and  nations,  w  hich  required  to  be  mentioned  ;  without 
ever  losing  sight  of  his  chief  object,  to  which  he  returns 
from  every  episode.  He  had  himself  visited  the  greater 
part  of  these  countries  and  nations  ;  had  seen  them  with 
his  own  eyes  ;  had  collected   information  from  the  most 


many  an  additional  inquiry  was  necessary  as  lie  composed  it  !  It  was  a  work,  fit 
to  eiiiplfiy  a  long  life. 

'   As  Hecaticus  and  Pherecydcs. 

^  Only  the  history  of  the  Assyrians  he  reserved  for  a  separate  work  ;  i.  184. 
This  he  probably  never  wrote.     Dahlinann,  p.  2:27. 


SCIENCES   IN    CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        307 

credible  sources.  But  when  he  enters  upon  the  anti- 
quities of  the  nations,  especially  of  his  own,  he  makes 
use  of  the  means  afforded  him  by  his  age  ;  and  here 
his  work  borders  on  tiiose  of  the  earlier  historians  (the 
Xoyoy()d(poi).  It  is  no  longer  necessary  to  appear  as  his  de- 
fender^ posterity  has  not  continued  unjust  towards  him. 
No  writer  has  received  more  frequent  confirmation  by  the 
advances  which,  within  the  last  thirty  years,  have  been 
made  in  the  knowledge  of  nations  and  countries,  than 
Herodotus,  who  was  formerly  so  often  the  object  of  ridi- 
cule. But  our  sole  purpose  was  to  show  in  what  manner 
the  science  of  history  had  been  elevated  by  his  choice  of 
a  subject ;  and  how  this  choice  was  intimately  connected 
with  the  impulse  given  to  the  political  character  of  his 
nation. 

The  first  great  step  had  thus  been  taken.  A  purely 
historical  subject,  relating  to  the  past,  but  to  no  distant 
period,  and  no  longer  belonging  to  tradition,  had  been 
treated  by  a  master,  who  had  devoted  the  largest  part  of 
his  life  to  a  plan,  framed  with  deliberation  and  executed 
with  enthusiasm.  The  nation  possessed  an  historical 
work,  which  first  showed  what  history  is  ;  and  which  was 
particularly  well  fitted  to  awaken  a  taste  for  it.  As 
Herodotus  read  his  work  to  all  Greece  assembled  at 
Olympia,  a  youth,  according  to  the  tradition,  was  incited 
by  it  to  become,  not  his  imitator,  but  his  successor.^ 


'  That  Thucydides  was  not  present  as  a  hearer  of  Herodotus,  is  clearly  proved 
by  Dahlmann,  p.  2(J  and  21G.  Had  he,  as  a  youih  of  sixteen  in  the  year  456 
B.  C,  listened  to  Herodotus,  he  must  liave  formed  his  purpose  of  becoming  an 
historian  at  least  two-and-thirty  years  before  he  carried  it  into  effect,  and  befjre 
he  had  chosen  a  subject  ;  for  his  biographer,  Marcellinus,  informs  us,  tliat  he  did 
not  write  his  history  till  after  his  exile,  that  is,  after  the  year  424  B  C.  The  nar- 
rative of  Lucian,  that  Herodotus  read  his  history  aloud  at  Olympia.  contains  no 


308  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

Thucjdides  appeared.  His  predecessor  had  written  a 
history  of  the  past.  He  became  the  historian  of  his  own 
time.  He  was  the  first  who  seized  on  this  idea,  on 
which  the  whole  character  of  his  work  depends ;  though 
others,  especially  the  ancient  cities,  looked  for  it  in  his 
style,  his  eloquence,  and  other  secondary  matters.  By 
this  means  he  advanced  the  science  of  history  in  a  higher 
degree  than  he  himself  was  aware  of.  His  subject  made 
him  necessarily  a  critic. 

The  storm  of  the  Persian  wars  had  been  terrific,  but 
transitory.  During  its  continuance,  no  historian  could 
appear.  It  was  not  till  after  its  fury  had  for  some  time 
abated,  and  men  had  regained  their  composure  of  mind, 
that  Herodotus  could  find  a  place.  Amidst  the  splendor 
of  the  victories  which  had  been  gained,  under  the  shade 
of  security  won  by  valor,  —  with  what  emotions  did  the 
Greek  look  back  upon  those  years  ?  Who  could  be  more 
welcome  to  him  than  the  historian,  who  painted  for  him 
this  picture  of  his  own  glory,  not  only  as  a  whole,  but  in 
its  parts  !  The  age  of  Thucydides,  on  the  contrary,  was 
full  of  grandeur,  but  of  difficulties.  In  the  long  and 
obstinate  war  with  one  another,  the  Grecian  states  sought 
to  overturn  each  other  from  their  very  foundations.  It 
was  not  the  age  of  wars  only,  but  of  revolutions  with  all 
their  horrors.     Whether  a   man   were   an  aristocrat  or 


date  ;  the  assumption  that  it  was  in  456  B.  C,  rests  on  the  anecdote  about  Thu- 
cydides, which  Lucian  does  not  mention.  Why  then  may  it  not  liave  taken  place 
at  a  hitcr  day  r  I^ucian  may  have  colored  the  narrative,  but  hardly  invented  it. 
That  such  readings  took  place,  not  before  the  whole  people, but  only  before  those 
interested,  follows  of  course ;  and  if  Herodotus  read  not  his  whole  work,  but 
only  a  jiartof  it,  (and  his  work  was  probably  finished  by  portions)  the  difficulties 
euirgested  by  Dahlmann,  disappear.  These  remarks  are  designed  not  to  prove 
the  truth  of  the  narrative,  but  to  show,  that  it  does  not  involve  improbabilities. 


SCIENCES  IN   CONNECTION   WITH  THE   STATE.       309 

democrat,  a  friend  of  Athens  or  of  Sparta,  was  the  ques- 
tion on  which  depended  fortune,  liberty,  and  life.  A 
beneficent  reverse  rescued  Thucydides  from  the  whirl- 
pool ;  and  gave  him  that  immortality,  which  the  capture 
of  Amphipolis  never  could  have  conferred  on  him.^  The 
fruit  of  his  leisure  was  the  history  of  his  age  ;  a  work 
he  himself  proposed  to  write,  and  actually  wrote,  for 
eternity.^ 

This  is  not  the  place  to  eulogize  the  man,  who  re- 
mained calm  amidst  all  the  turbulence  of  the  passions, 
the  only  exile  that  has  written  an  impartial  history.  His 
acquaintance  with  states  and  business,  his  deep  political 
acuteness,  his  style,  nervous,  though  occasion  ill\  uncouth, 
—  have  all  been  illustrated  by  others.  We  will  only  al- 
low ourselves  to  show,  by  a  few  remarks,  how  much  his- 
toric science  was  advanced  by  the  nature  of  his  subject. 

The  undertaking  of  the  man  who  was  the  first  to  form 
the  idea  of  writing  the  history  of  his  own  times,  and  of 
events  in  which  he  himself  had  a  share,  must  not  be  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  modern  writer,  who  compiles  it 
from  many  written  documents.  He  was  compelled  to 
investigate  every  thing  by  personal  inquiry  ;  and  that, 
too,  in  a  period  when  every  thing  was  misrepresented  by 
passion  and  party  spirit.  But  antiquity  had  not  inwrapped 
his  subject  in  the  veil  of  tradition,  nor  had  it  in  ils  nature 
any  epic  interest.  The  subject  was  thoroughly  prosaic  ; 
setting  before  the  writer  no  other  aim,  than  that  of  ex- 

'  After  Amphipolis  had  been  taken  by  IJrasidas,  Thucydides  was  accused  of 
having  come  too  late  to  the  assistance  of  that  city,  and  was  banished  by  the 
Athenian  people  ;  he  actually  passed  twenty  years  in  exile  in  Thrace,  where  he 
possessed  valuable  mines.  Let  Thucydides  himself  be  heard  on  this  subject,  iv. 
104,  and  v.  2G. 

^  Kxijua  ilf  aft.     Thucyd.  i.  22. 


310  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

hibit'ng  the  truth.  In  this  lay  the  sole  interest;  and  to 
ascertain  and  repeat  the  truth,  is  all  which  we  can  fairly 
demand  of  the  historian.  We  honor  and  respect  him, 
because,  penetrated  with  the  consciousness  of  his  dignity, 
he  never  for  a  moment  becomes  untrue  to  it.  A  senti- 
ment of  reverence  accompanies  us  from  the  first  to  the 
last  leaf  of  his  work.  Not  the  historian,  History  herself 
seems  to  address  us. 

But  to  what  new  views  must  he  have  been  led,  when 
with  the  desire  of  arriving  at  truth,  he  turned  his  eyes  to 
the  form  under  which  history  had  thus  far  appeared  ?  It 
was  his  immediate  aim  to  relate  the  events  of  his  own 
times  ;  but  the  preceding  age  could  not  remain  wholly 
excluded  from  the  sphere  of  his  observation.  It  appeared 
to  him  clothed  in  the  mantle  of  tradition ;  and  he  who 
scrutinized  every  thing  with  care,  was  not  caught  by  its 
delusive  splendor.  He  endeavored  to  contemplate  anti- 
quity, as  it  was,  to  take  from  it  this  false  glare,  leaving 
nothing  but  the  light  of  truth  ;  and  thus  was  produced 
that  iuvaluable  introduction  which  precedes  his  work. 

By  such  means  Thucydides  was  the  inventor  of  an 
ait,  which  before  him  had  been  almost  unknown,  the  art 
of  liistoric  criticism  ;  without  being  conscious  of  the  in- 
i'  :ito  value  of  his  invention.  For  he  did  not  apply  it  to 
all  branches  of  knowledge,  but  only  to  his  subject,  because 
it  nas  a  natural  consequence  of  that  subject.  The  his- 
toric Muse  had  made  him  acquainted  with  her  most  secret 
naturi^  :  no  one  before  or  after  him  has  drawn  the  line 
more  clearly  between  history  and  tradition.  And  what 
is  this,  but  to  draw  the  distinction  between  the  historic 
culture  of  the  East  and  West?  and  —  if  we  recognise 
liow  w.]ch  depended  on  this  historic  culture  —  between 


SCIENCES   IN   CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.       311 

the  whole  scientific  culture  of  the  East  and  West  ?  For 
to  repeat  a  remark,  which  has  already  been  cursorily 
made,  the  great  difference  between  the  two,  consists  in 
this  ;  in  the  West,  the  free  spirit  of  criticism  was  de- 
veloped, and  in  the  East  never. 

It  is  therefore  just  to  say,  that  Thucydides  advanced 
a  giant's  step.  It  is  just  to  say,  that  he  rose  above  his 
age  ;  neither  his  own  nor  the  following  could  reach  him. 
Poetic  tradition  was  too  deeply  interwoven  with  Grecian 
history,  to  admit  of  an  entire  separation.  A  Theopompus 
and  Ephorus,  whenever  the  heroic  age  was  to  be  dis- 
cussed, drew  their  materials  with  as  little  concern  from 
the  writers  of  mythological  fables  and  the  poets,  as  if 
Thucydides  never  had  written. 

A  third  step  yet  remained  to  be  taken  ;  and  it  was  in 
some  respects  the  most  dangerous  of  all ;  to  become  the 
historian  of  one's  own  exploits.  This  step  was  taken  by 
Xenophon.  For  when  we  speak  of  his  historic  writings, 
his  Anabasis  so  far  surpasses  the  rest,  that  it  alone  de- 
serves to  be  mentioned.  But  this  new  step  may  with 
propriety  be  called  one  of  the  most  important.  Would 
that  he  who  ventured  to  take  it,  had  found  many  succes- 
sors !  By  the  mildness  and  modesty  of  his  personal 
character,  Xenophon  was  secured  from  the  faults,  into 
which  men  are  so  apt  to  fall,  when  they  describe  their 
own  actions  ;  although  these  virtues  and  the  nature  of 
his  subject  could  not  give  his  work  those  superior  quali- 
ties, which  the  genius  of  Caesar  knew  how  to  impart  to 
his  commentaries. 

Thus  in  the  period  of  their  freedom,  all  the  principal 
kinds  of  history  were  developed  among  the  Greeks.  What 
was  done  afterwards,  can  hardly  be  called  progress,  al- 


312  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

though  the  subjects  of  history  grew  more  various  and 
more  extensive  with  the  enlarged  sphere  of  politics  in 
the  Macedonian  and  Roman  age ;  and  the  idea  of  a  uni- 
versal history  was  more  distinctly  entertained.  But  after 
the  downfall  of  liberty,  when  rhetoric  became  prevalent 
and  was  applied  to  history,  the  higher  kind  of  criticism 
ceased  to  be  employed  in  it.  The  style,  the  manner  in 
which  a  subject  was  treated,  was  regarded ;  not  the  sub- 
ject itself.  The  essence  was  forgotten  in  disputes  about 
the  form.  We  have  ahundant  proofs  of  this  in  the  judg- 
ments of  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  who  has  neverthe- 
less been  usually  mentioned  as  the  first  of  these  critics. 


POETRY   IN    CONNECTION   WITH    THE   STATE.  313 


CHAPTER  XV. 


POETRY  AND  THE  ARTS  IN  CONNECTION  WITH  THE 

STATE. 

Whether  in  our  inquiries  on  the  political  institutions 
of  Greece,  their  poetry  and  arts  must  be  considered, — 
will  hardly  be  made  a  question  by  any  of  my  readers. 
Almost  every  one  of  the  preceding  chapters  has  served 
to  show  how  closely  they  were  connected  with  the  state. 
Yet  our  remarks  must  be  limited  to  the  question  :  What 
was  the  nature,  and  what  were  the  consequences  of  this 
connection  ?  But  even  in  answerins;  this  we  misht  be 
carried  very  far,  if  we  were  to  pass  the  bounds  which 
the  character  of  this  work  prescribes.  In  s])eaking  of 
poetry,  we  would  principally  consider  the  dramatic ; 
since  we.  have  already  spoken  of  the  epic.  But  the 
drama  can  hardly  be  discussed,  separate  from  lyric  po- 
etry. We  place  the  arts  in  immediate  connection  with 
poetry,  because  nature  herself  had  united  them  among 
the  Greeks  ;  among  whom  the  arts  are  as  it  were  the 
key  to  poetry.  The  remark  of  a  modern  critic'  is  per- 
fectly true,  that  the  masterpieces  of  the  plastic  art  fur- 
nish the  best  commentary  on  the  tragedians.  Although 
it  is  not  always  the  same  persons  whom  the  poets  and  the 
sculptors  bring  before  us,  we  yet  derive  from  them  our 
conceptions  of  the  ideal  forms.  He  who  has  seen  the 
sublime  figures  of  Niobe  and  of  Laocoon,  can  easily  rep- 

'   A.  W.  Schlegcl,  fiber  dramatische  Kunst  und    Litteratur,  Th.  i.  s.  G7.     A. 
W.  Schlegel,  on  Dramatic  Literature. 
40 


314  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

resent  to  his  mind  an  Electra  or  an  (Edipus  in  the  forms 
under  which  tliej  floated  in  the  mind  of  the  poet. 

With  the  advancing  culture  of  Greece,  the  connection 
between  poetry  and  arts,  and  the  state,  increased  ;  and 
was  most  intimate  in  its  most  flourishing  age.  Even 
the  earhest  lawgivers  of  the  Greeks  regarded  poetry  as 
the  chief  means  of  forming  the  character  of  youth  ;  and 
of  exercising  an  influence  on  their  riper  years.  But 
in  an  age  when  there  was  as  yet  no  literature,  poetry 
could  not  be  separate  from  song  ;  and  was  commonly 
accompanied  with  an  instrument.  Hence  came  the 
meaning  of  the  word  music,  which  embraced  all  this 
together.  Yet  this  is  chiefly  true  of  lyric  poetry,  which, 
as  the  immediate  expression  of  the  feelings  of  the  poet, 
was  much  more  intimately  connected  with  song  than  the 
epic.  If  we  do  but  bear  constantly  in  mind  the  leading 
idea  which  the  Greek  liad  framed  of  a  state,  as  a  moral 
person  that  was  to  govern  itself,  we  can  comprehend 
the  wliole  imj)ortance,  which  music,  in  the  wider  sense 
of  the  word,  jiossessed  in  tlie  eyes  of  the  Grecian  law- 
givers. It  seemed  to  them  in  that  age,  when  there  was 
as  yet  no  i)hilosoj)hic  culture,  when  the  feelings  and  the 
management  of  tlie  feelings  were  of  the  greatest  moment, 
the  b(>st  means  of  influencing  them  ;  and  we  need  not  be 
asioiiislied,  u  hen  we  read  in  Plutarch^  and  other  writers, 
of  the  great  severity  with  which  the  laws,  especially  in 
Sparta,  insisted  on  the  preservation  of  the  ancient  music, 
and  the  (^stal)lished  tunes.  It  may  be  difflcult  in  our 
davs,  when  music  is  no  longer  considered  the  lever  of 
national   force, ^  to  form  any  distinct  idea  of  those  insti- 

'    In  liis  Tssay  De  Musica.     Op.  ii    p.  1131, 

-  That  in  his  times,  when  music  was  used  only  in  the  theatres,  it  had  lost  its 
Rncient  application,  is  the  complaint  of  Plutarch,  ii.  1140. 


POETRY   IN    CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.  315 

tutions  of  the  ancients.  But  as  human  nature  is  never 
untrue  to  itself,  institutions  which  are  founded  on  it,  are 
always  preserved  to  a  certain  extent  and  under  certain 
forms.  In  the  nineteenth  century,  in  which  there  is  no 
longer  any  danger  of  corrupting  a  nation  by  changes  in 
music  (although  it  would  be  very  presumptuous  to  give 
a  hasty  opinion  on  its  influence  and  effects,)  no  regiment 
is  raised  without  its  band  ;  and  the  commander,  who 
instead  of  a  warlike  march  should  order  a  dirge  to  be 
played,  would  justly  incur  the  same  reproaches  ^^ith  him, 
who  in  ancient  days  made  an  unseasonable  use  of  the 
Lydian  instead  of  the  Dorian  measure. 

Lyric  poetry  was  moreover  intimately  connected  with 
the  popular  religion  ;  or  was  in  fact  a  result  of  it ;  for 
hymns  in  praise  of  the  gods  are  mentioned  as  its  first 
fruits.^  It  was  therefore  important  to  the  state  as  a  sup- 
port of  the  popular  religion  ;  particularly  by  contributing 
to  the  splendor  of  the  festivals.  For  when  was  a  festival 
celebrated  by  the  Greeks,  and  the  songs  of  the  poets 
not  heard  ?  But  they  received  their  greatest  importance 
from  the  institution  of  choral  songs.  These  choruses, 
even  independent  of  the  drama,  were  the  chief  ornament 
of  the  festivals  ;  and  were  composed  of  persons  of  vari- 
ous ages.  There  were  those  of  youths,  of  men,  and  of 
the  aged  ;  which  responded  to  each  other  alternately  in 
song.^  As  the  festivals  were  a  public  concern,  so  too 
were  the  choruses  :  and  we  have  no   cause   to   be  aston- 


I  ti 


Music,"  says  Plutarch,  ii.  p.  1140,  "was  first  made  use  of  in  the  tem- 
ples and  sacred  places  in  praise  of  the  gods,  and  for  the  instruction  of  3'outh  ; 
long  before  it  was  introduced  into  the  theatres,  which  at  that  time  were  not  in 
existence 

'■^  See  in  particular  the  whole  oration  of  Demosthenes  against  Midias,  who  had 
abused  Demosthenes  as  choragus,  or  leader  of  the  chorus. 


316  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

ished,  that  the  preparation  of  them  formed  a  part  of  the 
civil  burdens. 

The  choral  song  at  the  festivals  was  as  ancient  as 
the  heroic  age,  or  at  least  as  the  times  of  HomerJ 
Although  it  was  capable  of  receiving  great  ornaments 
and  did  actually  receive  them,  it  did  not  necessarily  re- 
quire any  great  preparations.  The  similar  spectacles 
which  modern  travellers  have  witnessed  in  the  islands 
of  the  South  Sea,  especially  the  Society  Islands,  carry 
us  back  to  the  earlier  world  of  Greece.  The  drama 
was  the  result  of  those  choruses  ;  but  from  its  nature 
it  could  only  be  a  later  fruit  of  the  poetic  spirit  of  the 
nation. 

The  drama  interests  us  here  only  in  its  connection 
with  the  state.  But  this  inquiry  goes  very  deeply  into 
its  nature.  A  question  arises  of  a  twofold  character  : 
What  did  the  state  do  for  the  drama,  and  in  what  re- 
spects was  the  drama,  by  its  nature  and  organization, 
connected  with  and  of  importance  to  the  state  ? 

Dramatic  poetry,  whose  object  is  to  give  a  distinct  and 
lively  re})resentation  of  an  action,  always  requires  deco- 
rations, however  splendid  or  paltry  they  may  be  ;  and  an 
assembly,  before  which  the  representation  may  be  made. 
Dramatic  poetry  is  therefore  essentially  more  public  than 
that  of  any  other  description.  Of  all  kinds  of  verse,  this 
concerns  the  state  the  most  nearly.  Among  the  Greeks 
we  may  add,  that  it  was  an  affair  of  religion,  and  there- 
fore an  essential  part  of  their  festivals.  But  these  festi- 
vals were  entirely  an  affair  of  the  state  ;  they  belonged, 
as  has  been   observed  above,  to  the  most  urgent  political 

'  See  the  Hymn,  in  Apoll.  v.   147,  &c.  respecting  the  choruses  at  the  Ionian 
festivals  in  Deles. 


POETRY   IN   CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.  317 

wants.  Here  then  we  find  a  reason  why  the  state 
should  not  only  have  so  much  encouraged  dramatic  exhi- 
bitions, but  have  even  considered  them  no  less  essential 
than  the  popular  assemblies  and  popular  tribunals.  A 
Grecian  state  could  not  exist  without  festivals,  nor  festi- 
vals without  choruses  and  plays. 

In  what  manner  the  state  encouraged  the  drama,  we 
know  only  with  respect  to  Athens.  But  that  the  other 
Grecian  cities  in  the  mother  country,  and  also  in  the 
colonies,  had  their  theatres  no  less  than  Athens,  is  appa- 
rent from  the  remains  of  them,  which  are  almost  always 
to  be  found  wherever  there  are  traces  of  a  Grecian  city. 
The  theatres  were  built  and  decorated  at  the  public  ex- 
pense ;  we  find  in  Grecian  cities  no  instance,  as  far  as 
my  knowledge  extends,  where  private  persons  erected 
them,  as  was  usual  in  Rome.  Their  structure  was 
cdways  the  same,  such  as  may  still  be  seen  in  Hercula- 
neum  ;  and  we  must  therefore  infer,  that  all  the  external 
means  of  representation  remained  the  same  ;  although 
the  wealth  and  taste  of  individual  cities  introduced  higher 
degrees  of  splendor  ;  which  in  our  times  we  may  observe 
in  our  larger  cities,  compared  with  the  smaller  or  provin- 
cial towns.  But  from  the  remains  of  the  Grecian  thea- 
tres, the  size  and  extent  of  these  buildings  are  apparent, 
and  their  great  dissimilarity  in  this  respect  to  modern 
ones.  If  they  had  not  been  regarded  as  a  real  want,  and 
if  the  emulation  of  the  cities  had  not  also  exerted  its  in- 
fluence, we  might  doubt  whether  sufficient  means  could 
have  been  found  for  erecting  them. 

The  bringing  forward  of  the  single  plays  belonged  to 
the  civil  burdens  Q.f:iTovoyiui),  which  the  opulent  were 
obliged  to  bear  in  rotation,  or  which  they  voluntarily  as- 


318  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

sumed.  We  can  hardly  doubt,  that  these  regulations  in 
other  cities  resembled  those  in  Athens,  though  on  this 
subject  we  have  no  distinct  testimony.  Thus  the  state 
threw  these  expenses  in  part  upon  private  persons  ;  but 
the  matter  was  not  the  less  a  public  concern,  for  this  ex- 
pense was  considered  as  a  contribution  due  to  the  state. 
But  another  regulation  may  astonish  us  still  more  than 
this ;  the  regulation  by  which  money  was  granted  from 
the  public  treasury  to  the  poorer  citizens,  that  they 
might  be  able  to  visit  the  theatres.  This  was  the  case 
in  Athens,  though  not  till  the  times  in  which  the  state 
began  to  sink  under  the  moral  corruption  of  its  citizens. 
The  desire  of  pleasure  may  in  such  periods  degenerate 
into  a  sort  of  phrensy  ;  and  the  preservation  of  tranquil- 
lity may  demand  sacrifices,  which  are  reluctantly  made 
even  by  those  who  consent. 

Though  the  oldest  dramatic  essays  among  the  Greeks 
may  be  of  a  more  remote  age,  there  is  no  doubt  that 
JCschylus  w^as  the  father,  not  only  of  the  finished  drama, 
but  also  of  the  Grecian  stage.  It  was  not,  therefore,  till 
after  the  victories  over  the  Persians  (he  himself  fought 
in  the  battle  of  Salamis),  that  a  theatre  of  stone  w^as 
erected  in  Athens  ;^  and  all  that  concerns  the  drama 
b;  i^an  to  be  developed  in  that  city.  The  contests  of  the 
poets,  which  were  introduced  there  at  the  festivals  of 
BaccliLis,  and  which,  though  they  cost  the  state  only  a 
crown,  rewarded  the  poet  more  than  gold  could  have 
done,  contributed  much  to  excite  emulation.  It  was 
about  this  time  that  Athens  began  to  be  the  seat  of  lite- 
rature, and   in  the  scale  of  political   importance  the  first 

'  TliP  occasion  is  related   by  Suidas  in  IToaThag.     At  the  representation  of  a 
play  of  ^schylus,  the  wooden  scaffold,  on  which  the  spectators  stood, gave  way. 


POETRY    IN    CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        319 

State  in  Greece.  Hence  we  can  explain  the  remarkable 
fact,  that  the  dramatic  art  seemed  in  that  city  as  at  home. 
Athens  directed  the  taste  of  the  other  cities  ;  and  with- 
out being  the  capital  in  the  same  degree  as  Paris  and 
London,  her  great  superiority  in  intellectual  culture  se- 
cured to*  her  that  supremacy,  which  was  the  more  glori- 
ous, as  it  rested  not  on  violence,  but  on  the  voluntary 
concession  of  her  preeminence. 

I  am  acquainted  with  no  investigation  of  the  question, 
in  what  manner,  after  the  erection  of  a  stage  at  Athens, 
theatrical  amusements  were  extended  throughout  the 
other  Grecian  cities.  Tlie  ruins  which  remain  in  them, 
leave  it  still  uncertain,  when  they  were  built;  and  where 
can  we  find  dates  to  settle  this  point?  But  so  many 
vestiges  make  it  highly  probable,  that  the  drama  was  in- 
troduced into  the  other  cities  before  the  Macedonian 
age.  Neither  tragic  nor  comic  poets  were  at  home  in 
Athens  exclusively  ;  but  started  up  in  the  most  various 
regions  of  the  Grecian  world. ^  Athenian  poets  were 
invited  to  resort  to  the  courts  of  foreign  princes.^  A 
king  of  Syracuse  was  himself  a  tragic  poet.^  In  the 
same  city,  Athenian  captives  regained  their  liberty  by 
frao-ments  from  the  tragedies  of  Euripides.  The  inhab- 
itants of  Abdcra,  when  their  fellow-citizen  Archelaus 
plaved  the  part  of  Andromeda,  were  seized  with  a  the- 
atric passion  bordering  on   madness.^     Other  proofs,  if 

>  Abundant  proof  may  be  found  in  Fabricii  Bibl.  Gr.  T.  i.  in  the  Catalog. 
Tratjicoruni  and  Comicoruni  deperditorum. 

^  Euripides  was  invited  to  repair  to  the  court  of  Archelaus,  king  of  IVIace- 
donia. 

3  Dionysius  the  elder.     A  fragment  of  his  has  been  preserved  in  Stob.  Eclog. 

i.  iv.  19. 

■•  Lucian.  de  conscrib.  histor.  Op.  iv.  p.  159,  Bip. 


320  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

necessary,  might  be  found.  It  may  seem  doubtful, 
whether  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  comic  drama  ; 
which  in  Athens  was  of  so  local  a  character,  that  it 
could  hardly  have  been  understood  in  the  other  cities  ; 
or  at  least  much  of  its  wit  must  have  been  lost.  But  is 
it  safe  from  the  few  remaining  pieces  of  a  single  comic 
poet  to  judge  of  the  hundreds  produced  by  a  multitude 
of  others,  and  no  longer  extant  ? 

To  answer  the  other  question  :  In  what  relation  the 
theatre  among  the  Greeks,  from  its  very  nature,  stood  to 
the  state,  we  must  distinguish  its  two  chief  divisions. 
Before  the  Macedonian  age,  while  comedy  was  still  per- 
mitted to  preserve  its  republican  character,^  tragedy  and 
comedy,  as  there  were  no  intermediate  kinds,^  remained 
as  different  from  each  other,  as  seriousness  and  mirth. 
They  had  no  points  of  contact. 

Tragedy,  introducing  upon  the  stage  the  heroes  of 
Greece,  was  the  representation  of  great  events  of  the 
elder  days,  according  to  the  ideal  conceptions  of  the 
Greeks;^  comedy,  on  the  contrary,  was  the  parody  of 
tlie  present  ;  as  we  shall  hereafter  illustrate  more  fully. 

'  The  old  comedy,  as  it  was  called. 

'-^  The  satyric  drama,  as  it  was  called,  was  not  an  intermediate  class,  but  a 
corruption  of  tragedy. 

^  Two  plays,  the  Persians  of  yEschylus,  and  the  Destruction  of  Miletus  of 
Phrynichiis  formed  exceptions.  Put  they  had  no  imitators  ;  and  tlie  last  men- 
tioned poet  was  even  punished  for  it  by  the  Athenians.  Herod,  vi.  21.  Here 
too  we  observ'e  the  correct  judgment  of  the  nation,  which  desired,  in  the  tragic 
drama,  an  excitement  of  the  passions;  but  purely  of  the  passions,  without  any 
personal  allusions.  This  was  possible  only  in  subjects  taken  from  early  times. 
Put  still  a  certain  regard  for  historic  truth,  as  contained  in  the  traditions,  was 
req\)ired  by  the  (irecian  taste.  Subjects  altogether  fictitious  were  unknown. 
The  constMjuences  of  this  deserve  to  be  illustrated  at  large.  If  the  tragic  drama 
was  thus  limited  to  the  traditions  respecting  the  heroes,  it  at  the  same  time  ob- 
tained a  certain  sokmn  support  which  gave  it  dignity. 


POETRY   IN  CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.         321 

In  these  explanations,  the  whole  difference  of  the  two 
has  been  expressed. 

Tragedy  was  in  certain  respects  a  result  of  epic  poetry. 
For  this  had  always  preserved  the  recollection  of  the  he- 
roic age  ;  without  which  the  tragic  poets  would  have  had 
to  contend  with  no  less  difficulties,  than  the  moderns, 
when  they  have  borrowed  subjects  from  the  fables  of  the 
North.  It  was  only  necessary  to  mention  the  name  of 
the  chief  person,  and  the  whole  story  of  his  adventures 
was  recalled  to  every  mind.  Hence  the  artificial  weav- 
ing of  a  plot,  was  only  so  far  a  duty  of  the  poet,  as  the 
nature  of  the  drama  requires ;  grandeur  and  liveliness  of 
manner  were  on  the  contrary  far  more  in  the  spirit  of 
the  heroic  world.  Not  the  event,  but  the  character  of 
the  action,  was  important.  Whether  the  issue  was  for- 
tunate; or  unfortunate,  was  a  matter  of  indifference  ;  but 
it  was  necessary  that  the  action  should  be  m  itself  sub- 
lime ;  should  be  the  result  of  the  play  of  the  passions  ; 
and  should  never  depart  from  the  gravity,  which  is  as  it 
were  the  colorins;  of  the  world  of  heroes.  In  this  con- 
sists  the  tragic  part  of  the  drama.  But  though  the  final 
event  was  in  itself  indifferent,  the  poets  naturally  pre- 
ferred subjects,  in  which  it  was  unfortunate  for  the  chief 
personages.  In  such  the  tragic  interest  was  the  great- 
est ;  the  catastrophe  the  most  fearful ;  the  effect  least 
uncertain.  A  tragic  issue  suited  best  the  whole  charac- 
ter of  the  kind  of  j)oetry. 

The  tragic  drama  could  have  but  few  points  of  rela- 
tion with  the  state.  The  ])olitical  world  which  was  here 
exhibited,  was  entirely  different  from  the  actual  one  of 
the  times  ;  the  forms  of  monarchy  alone  were  introduced 
on   the  stage.     The  same  remark,  therefore,  which  has 

41 


CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

been  made  respecting  the  epic,  is  true  also  of  the  tragic 
poetry  of  the  Greeks.  The  violent  commotions  in  the 
ancient  royal  families  and  their  extinction,  were  not 
represented  to  make  them  objects  of  contempt  or  hatred, 
and  to  quicken  the  spirit  of  republicanism  ;  but  solely 
because  no  other  actions  equally  possessed  the  sublimity 
of  the  tragic  character.  But  the  moral  effects  which 
were  produced  by  these  representations,  may  have  been 
politically  important.  Whilst  the  Grecian  continued  to 
live  in  the  heroic  world,  that  elevation  of  mind  could  not 
so  well  disappear,  which  is  seen  so  frequently  in  the  acts 
of  the  nation.  If  Homer  and  the  epic  poets  first  raised 
its  spirit  to  the  sublimity  belonging  to  it,  the  tragic  poets 
did  much  to  preserve  that  elevated  tone.  And  if  this 
elev'ated  s])irit  formed  the  strength  of  the  state,  they 
have  as  strong  a  claim  to  immortality,  as  the  military 
commanders  and  the  leaders  of  the  people. 

Comedy  was  more  closely  allied  to  the  state  ;  as  we 
may  presuppose  from  the  circumstance,  that  it  had  re- 
lation to  the  present  and  not  to  the  past.  We  have 
explained  it  above  to  be  the  ])arody  of  the  present  ;^  that 
is  of  the  contemporary  public  condition,  in  the  sense  in 
which  the  Greeks  understand  this  expression.  Private 
life,  as  such,  was  never  the  subject  of  comedy,  except  so 
far  as   it   w^as    connected  with   the    public.     But  these 


'  A.  W.  Schlcgel,  in  his  work  on  Dramatic  Literature  and  Art,  i.  p.  271.  con- 
siders tlie  characteristic  of  comedy  to  have  been,  that  it  was  a  parody  of  tragedy. 
It  certainly  was  so  very  frequently,  and  thus  far  his  remark  is  correct.  Tragedy 
was  a  part  of  tiio  public  life  ;,  the  parody  of  tragedy  was  therefore  a  fit  subject  for 
tjie  comic  stage  ;  and  the  relation  between  the  tragic  and  comic  poets  was  such, 
that  the  latter  were  naturally  fond  of  ridiculing  the  former.  The  readers  of 
Aristophanes  know  this.  Yet  we  must  be  very  careful  how  we  thus  confine  the 
range  of  comedy.     It  was  not  essentially  a  parody. 


POETRY   IN   CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.  323 

points  of  contact  were  so  many  and  so  various,  that  the 
comic  poet  could  not  but  frequently  present  views  of 
private  life.  The  relation  of  comedy  was  therefore  alto- 
gether political,  so  far  as  we  comprehend  every  thing 
public  under  this  word.  But  the  scenes  which  were  ex- 
hibited, were  not  represented  with  fidelity,  but  were 
caricatured.  This  seems  to  have  been  agreed  upon  by 
a  silent  convention  ;  and  therefore  such  representations 
could  not  injure  those  against  whom  they  were  directed, 
much  more  than  the  caricature  prints  of  our  times.  We 
would  not  be  understood  to  justify  unconditionally  the 
incredible  impudence  of  the  Grecian  comic  poets,  in 
whose  eyes  neither  men,  nor  morals,  nor  the  gods  were 
sacred.  But  a  public  tribunal  of  character  is  an  actual 
necessity,  where  a  popular  government  exists;  and  in 
those  times  what  other  such  tribunal  could  have  existed 
than  the  theatre  ?  Whatever  excited  public  attention, 
whether  in  persons  or  in  things,  it  might  be  expected, 
would  be  brought  upon  the  stage.  The  most  powerful 
demagogue,  in  the  height  of  his  power  did  not  escape 
this  fate  ;  nay,  the  people  of  Athens  itself  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  itself  personified,  and  brought  upon  the 
stage,  where  it  could  laugh  at  itself,  till  it  was  satisfied 
with  mirth  ;^  and  —  crowned  the  poet  for  having  done 
it.  What  is  our  freedom  of  the  press,  our  licentiousness 
of  the  press,  compared  with  this  dramatic  freedom  and 
licentiousness  ? 

But  though  the  ridicule  of  the  comic  poets  could  not 
much  injure  the  individual  against  whom  it  chanced  to 
be  directed,  the  question  is  still  by  no  means  answered, 

'  As  in  the  Knights  of  Aristophanes. 


324  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

What  consequences  had  the  comic  drama  for  the  state, 
and  for  morals,  which  with  the  Greeks  were  inseparably 
connected  with  the  state  ?  Those  judgments  passed  on 
public  characters  may  have  had  some  influence,  but  not 
a  great  deal ;  unless  perhaps  to  make  men  more  cautious ; 
and  this  was  no  small  consideration.  When  we  see  that 
Pericles,  notwithstanding  all  the  attacks  of  the  comic 
poets, ^  was  not  to  be  deposed,  and  that  even  Cleon, 
when  he  had  been  made  a  public  jest  in  the  person  of 
the  Paphlagonian,  lost  nothing  of  his  influence,  we  can- 
not make  a  very  high  estimate  of  that  advantage.  So 
far  as  morals  are  concerned,  it  is  true,  that  the  ideas  of 
propriety  are  conventional ;  and  that  it  would  be  wrong 
to  infer  from  a  violation  of  them  in  language,  a  cor- 
responding violation  in  action.  The  inhabitant  of  the 
North,  who  has  not  grown  accustomed  to  the  much 
greater  license  given  to  the  tongue  by  the  southern  na- 
tions, may  here  easily  be  mistaken.  The  jokes  of  Har- 
lequin, especially  in  his  extemporaneous  performances, 
are  often  hardly  less  unrestrained  than  those  of  Aris- 
tophanes ;  and  the  southern  countries  are  not  on  that 
account  on  the  whole  more  corrupt  than  the  northern, 
although  some  otfences  are  more  common  in  the  former. 
But  the  incredible  levity,  with  which  the  rules  of  modesty 
were  transgressed,  could  not  remain  without  consequences. 
Another  important  point  is  the  influence  of  comedy  on 
the  religion  of  the  peoj)le.  The  comic  poets  were  care- 
ful never  to  appear  as  atheists  ;  that  would  have  led  to 
exile  ;  they  rather  defended  the  popular  religion.  But 
the   manner   in   which  this   was  done,  was  often   worse 

'   Specimens  of  tlicm  may  be  seen  Plutarch.     Op    i.  p.  G20. 


THE  ARTS   IN   CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.  325 

than  a  direct  attack.  Who  could  appear  with  reverent 
devotion  at  the  altar  of  Jove,  after  growing  weary  with 
laughing  at  him  in  the  clouds,  or  after  having  seen  him 
pay  court  to  earthly  beauties  ?  Even  on  the  minds  of 
the  most  frivolous  nation  in  the  world,  indelible  impres- 
sions must  have  been  made. 

The  ancient  comedy  has  commonly  been  called  a  po- 
litical farce  ;  and  the  expression  is  just,  if  we  interpret 
the  word  political  in  the  wide  sense  in  which  we  have 
explained  it.  It  is  sufficiently  known,  that,  after  the 
downfall  of  the  popular  rule,  there  was  no  longer  any 
field  for  this  ancient  comedy,  that  it  lost  its  sting  in  the 
middle  comedy  as  it  is  termed,  and  that  the  new  was  of 
an  entirely  different  character.^  As  this  new  kind  lost 
its  local  character  with  the  personal  allusions,  the  old 
obstacles  to  its  diffusion  throughout  theOrecian  world  no 
longer  existed.  And  though  we  mav  doubt  whether  the 
plays  of  Cratinus  and  Aristophanes  were  ever  acted  out 
of  Athens,  no  question  can  certainly  be  raised  with  re- 
spect to  those  of  Menander  and  Diphilus.  But  as  this 
new  species  of  theatrical  composition  was  not  introduced 
and  perfected  till  the  Macedonian  age,  the  subject  does 
not  fall  within  the  sphere  of  our  observations. 

With  our  notions  we  should  think  the  connection  of 
the  arts  with  politics  much  less  than  that  of  the  theatre; 
and  yet  it  was  among  the  Greeks  even  closer  and  more 
various.  The  encouragement  of  the  arts  is  in  our  times 
left  chiefly  to  private  taste  ;  and  is  greater  or  smaller 
according  to  the  number  of  amateurs.     The  state  takes 


'  The  diiference  of  these    kinds  is  best  explained   in  the  excellent  work   of 
Schlegel.  i.  p.  32(5. 


326  '  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

an  interest  in  them  only  to  prevent  their  total  decay,  or 
for  the  sake  of  some  particular  design. 

The  case  was  entirely  different  in  the  period  when 
they  flourished  among  the  Greeks.  The  arts  with  them 
were  exclusively  public,  and  not  at  all  an  affair  of  indi- 
viduals. They  afterwards  became  so,  yet  never  in  the 
same  degree  as  with  us  ;  nor  even  as  with  the  Romans. 
These  positions  require  to  be  further  developed  and  more 
accurately  proved. 

By  the  arts  we  mean  the  three  great  branches  of 
them,  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting.  On  each  of 
these  we  have  some  remarks  to  offer. 

Architecture  is  distinguished  from  the  two  others  by 
the  circumstance,  that  its  object  is  use  no  less  than 
beauty.  Not  only  the  moderns,  but  the  Romans  of 
the  later  ages,  endeavored  to  unite  them  both  ;  and  in 
this  manner  private  buildings  became  objects  of  art. 
Among  the  Greeks,  a  tendency  to  this  seems  to  have 
existed  in  the  heroic  age.  In  a  former  chapter,  we  re- 
marked that  in  the  dwellings  and  halls  of  the  kings, 
there  prevailed  a  certain  grandeur  and  splendor,  which, 
however,  we  shall  hardly  be  willing  to  designate  by  the 
name  of  scientific  architecture.  When  the  monarchical 
forms  disappeared,  and  living  in  cities,  and  with  it  repub- 
lican equality,  gained  ground,  those  differences  in  the 
dwellings  disaj)peared  of  themselves ;  and  every  thing 
which  we  read  respecting  private  houses  in  every  sub- 
sequent age,  confirms  us  in  the  idea,  that  they  could 
make    no  pretensions  to   elegance  of  construction.*     It 

'    It  follows  of  course,  that  the  testimony  of  writers  of  the  jNIacedonian,  or  the 
Roman  age,  are  not  liere  taken  into  consideration,  since    we  are   not  treating  of 

those  times. 


THE  ARTS   IN    CONNECTION    WITH   THE   STATE.        327 

would  be  difficult  to  produce  a  single  example  of  such  a 
building.  But  we  find  express  evidence  to  the  contrary. 
Athens  was  by  no  means  a  fine  city  like  some  of  our 
modern  ones,  in  w  hich  there  are  whole  streets  of  palaces 
occupied  as  the  dwellings  of  private  persons.  A  stranger 
could  have  been  in  Athens  without  imagining  himself  to 
be  in  the  city,  which  contained  the  greatest  masterpieces 
of  architecture.  The  splendor  of  the  city  was  not  per- 
ceived till  the  public  squares  and  the  Acropolis  were  ap- 
proached.^ The  small  dwellings  of  Themistocles  and  of 
Aristides  were  long  pointed  out;  and  the  building  of 
large  houses  was  regarded  as  a  proof  of  pride. ^  But 
when  luxury  increased,  the  houses  were  built  on  a  larger 
scale;  several  chambers  for  the  accommodation  of  stran- 
gers and  for  other  purpos(^s  were  built  round  the  court, 
which  commonly  fornKjd  the  centre  ;  but  all  this  might 
take  place,  and  yet  the  building  could  lay  no  claims  to 
beauty.  If  a  town,  which  was,  it  is  true,  but  a  provin- 
cial town,  may  be  cited  to  corroborate  this,  we  have  one 
still  before  our  eyes.  A  walk  through  the  excavated 
streets  of  Pompeii  will  be  sufficient  to  establish  our  re- 
mark. Where  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  the  ])ublic 
edifices  were  so  great  as  among  the  Greeks,  it  was  not 
possible  for  private  buildings  to  rival  them. 

Architecture,  as  applied  to  public  purposes,  began  with 
the  construction  of  temples  ;  and  till  the  time  of  the 
Persian  wars  or  just  before,  we  hear  of  no  other  consid- 
erable public  edifices.  The  number  of  temples  remark- 
able for  their  architecture,  was   till   that   time  a   limited 

'  Dicfearchus  de  Statu  GraecisB.  cap   8.  fluds. 

^  Demosthenes  reproaches  the  wealthy  Midias  witli  liis  large  house  at  Eleusis, 
which  intercepted  tlie  light  of  others.     Op.  i   p.  5(j5. 


328  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

one  ;  although,  in  the  age  just  preceding  the  war  with 
Persia,  this  art  had  already  produced  some  of  its  first 
works  among  the  Greeks.  In  Greece  itself  the  temple 
of  Delphi  was  the  most  celebrated,  after  it  had  been  re- 
built by  the  Alcmaeonidae.^  There  was  also  the  temple 
of  Apollo  in  Delos.  But  it  was  about  this  time,  that  the 
invention  of  the  Ionic  order  by  the  Asiatic  Greeks  in  ad- 
dition to  the  Doric,  which  had  been  used  till  then,  con- 
stituted a  new  epoch  in  the  history  of  architecture.  The 
splendid  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus  erected  by  the  joint 
exertions  of  the  cities  and  princes  of  Grecian  Asia,  was 
the  first  building  in  this  new  style.^  About  the  same 
time  Polycrates  built  the  temple  of  Juno  in  Samos.  The 
temples  which  afterwards  formed  the  glory  of  Greece, 
those  of  Athens  on  the  Acropolis  and  elsewhere,  were  all 
erected  after  the  Persian  war.  So  too  was  the  temple 
of  Jupiter  at  Olympia.  As  to  the  temples  in  Lower 
Italy  and  Sicily,  we  can  fix  the  epoch  in  which,  if  not  all, 
yet  the  largest  and  most  splendid  of  them,  the  chief  tem- 
ples of  Agrigentum,  were  erected  ;  and  that  epoch  is 
also  subsecjuent  to  the  Persian  war.^  And  if  those  of  the 
ancitnit  Doric  order,  at  Paestum  and  Segestus,  belong  to 
an  earli(U"  j)eriod,  they  cannot  to  one  much  earlier  ;  as 
these  cities  themselves  were  founded  so  much  later  than 
those  in  Asia  Minor.  Just  before  and  after  the  Persian 
war,  arose  that  prodigious  emulation  of  the  cities,  to  make 
themselves  famous  for  their  temples  ;  and  this  produced 
tliosi!  masterpieces  of  architecture. 

'  Horod.  V.  (Jt2. 

-  See  fill'  inslructlve  disquisition  :  Der  Tempel  dcr  Diana  zu  Ephesus,  von  A. 
Kirt.      ]$erlin,  iHtH. 

'  A  nioro  accurate  enuiiioration  of  the  cliief  temples  of  the  Greeks,  and  tlie 
pcricKls  ill  whii  li  they  wi're  built,  is  to  be  found  in  Stieglitz,  Geschichte  der 
liaiikun^t  (i.  r  Alien,  l.eipzig.  ITO'^. 


THE  ARTS  IN  CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.        329 

The  other  principal  kinds  of  public  buildings,  which 
were  conspicuous  for  their  splendor,  were  the  theatres, 
the  places  for  musical  exhibitions,  the  porticos,  and  ihe 
gymnasia.  Of  the  theatres,  it  has  already  been  ob- 
served, that  they  were  erected  subsequently  to  the  Per- 
sian wars.  The  same  is  true  of  the  h  ills  for  music. 
The  porticos,  those  favorite  places  of  resort  to  a  people 
who  lived  so  much  in  public,  belonged  in  part  to  the 
temples,^  and  in  part  surrounded  the  public  squares.  Of 
those  in  Athens,  which  by  their  works  of  art  eventually 
eclipsed  the  rest,  we  know  that  they  were  not  built  till 
after  the  victory  over  the  barbarians.  Of  all  the  public 
edifices,  the  gjmnasia  are  those  respecting  which  we 
have  the  fewest  accounts.^  They  were  probably  erect- 
ed at  a  distance  in  the  rear  of  the  temples ;  though 
many  of  them  were  distinguished  by  excellent  works 
of  art. 

This  line  of  division,  carefully  drawn  between  domes- 
tic and  public  architecture  by  the  Greeks,  who  regarded 
only  the  latter  as  possessing  the  rank  of  one  of  the  fine 
arts,  gives  a  new  proof  of  tht;ir  correct  views  of  things. 
In  buildings  destined  for  dwellings,  necessity  and  the  art 
are  in  constant  opposition.  The  latter  desires  in  its 
works  to  execute  some  grand  idea  independent  of  the 
common  wants  of  life  ;  but  a  dwelling  is  intend(>d  to 
meet  those'very  wants,  and  is  in  no  respect  fonnd(!d  on 
an  idea  connected  with  beauty.  The  temples  are  dwel- 
lings also,  but  the  dwellings  of  the  gods;  and  as  these 
have  no  wants  in  their  places  of  abode,  the  art  finds  here 
no  obstacle  to  its  inventions. 

'  As  e.  nf.  the  /.*';/>,  at  Olyinpia,  respecting  wliich   I'.ottiger  in  his   Geschichle 
der  Mahlerey,  B.  i.  s.  21)0,  etc.  has  fifiven  us  a  learned  essay. 
^  On  those  at  Athens,  consult  Stiesrlitz  in  loo.  cit.  p.  220. 
42 


330  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

The  plastic  arl^  and  painting  bore  to  each  other, 
among  the  Greeks,  the  opposite  relation  to  that  which 
they  have  borne  in  modern  times.  The  first  was  the 
most  cultivated  ;  and  though  the  latter  attained  the  rank 
of  an  independent  art,  it  never  was  able  to  gain  the  su- 
periority. It  is  not  for  us  here  to  explain  the  causes  of 
this ;  we  need  only  mention  one,  which  to  us  is  the 
most  interesting.  The  more  public  the  arts  are  among 
any  people,  the  more  naturally  will  the  plastic  art  sur- 
pass that  of  painting.  The  works  of  both  may  be  pub- 
lic, and  were  so  among  the  Greeks,  but  those  of  the 
former  are  far  better  suited  for  public  monuments  than 
those  of  the  latter.  The  works  of  painting  find  their 
place  only  on  walls ;  those  of  the  plastic  art,  exist- 
ing entirely  by  themselves,  wherever  there  is  room  for 
them. 

The  works  of  the  plastic  art,  statues  and  busts,  were, 
in  the  limes  of  which  we  speak  (and  among  the  Greeks, 
with  a  few  limitations,  even  in  subsequent  times),  only 
public  works,  that  is,  designed  to  be  set  up,  not  in  private 
dwellings,  but  in  public  places,  temples,  halls,  market- 
places, gymnasia,  and  theatres.  I  know  of  no  one  in- 
stance of  a  statue  that  belonged  to  a  private  man  ;  and  if 
there  exists  any  example,  it  is  an  exception  which  con- 
firms the  general  rule."  It  may  be  said,  that  it  is  only 
accidental  that  we  know  of  no  such  instances.     But  if 

'  The  plirase  plastic  art  is  used,  because  there  is  no  other  which  embraces  at 
once  tlie  works  of  stone  and  of  bronze. 

-  Or  con  the  anecdote  bo  cited,  which  Pausanias  relates,  p.  i.  46,  of  tlie  cun- 
niniT  of  Plirvne  to  gain  possession  of  tlie  god  of  love  made  by  her  lover  Praxi- 
teli-s  ?  Kveti  if  it  be  trne,  the  fact  is  in  our  favor  ;.  for  she  consecrated  it  imme- 
diately as  a  public  work  of  art  in  Thespiw,  Atheu.  p.  591  ;  in  which  city  alone  it 
was  from  that  time  to  be  seen.     Cic.  in  Ver.  ii.  iv.  2. 


THE  ARTS  IN   CONNECTION   WITH  THE   STATE.        331 

any  taste  of  that  kind  had  prevailed  at  Athens,  we  should 
find  traces  of  it  in  the  comedians  and  orators.  If  these 
are  consulted  in  vain  for  such  indications,  we  are  justified 
in  concluding  that  no  such  private  tastes  existed. 

Phidias  and  his  successors,  till  the  Macedonian  age, 
did  not  therefore  labor  to  supply  with  their  works  the 
houses  and  collections  of  individuals.  This  by  no  means 
implies,  that  they  did  not  receive  applications  from  private 
persons.  If  they  had  not,  the  incredible  multitude  of 
statues,  which  we  have  already  mentioned,  could  never 
have  been  made.^  This  subject  is  so  important,  that  it 
demands  to  be  treated  of  more  at  large. 

The  great  masters  were  principally  employed  for  the 
cities.  These,  or  the  men  who  were  at  their  head  (as 
the  example  of  Pericles  informs  us),  bespoke  works  of 
art,  or  bought  them  ready  made,  to  ornament  the  city  and 
the  public  buildings.  We  have  distinct  evidence,  that 
the  great  masterpieces  of  Phidias,  Praxiteles,  and  Lysip- 
pus,  ow.ed  their  origin  to  this.  Thus  were  produced  the 
Jupiter  at  Olympia,  the  Minerva  Polias  at  Athens,  by 
the  first ;  the  Venus  at  Cnidus,  as  well  as  at  Cos,  by  the 
second ;  the  Colossus  of  Rhodes,  by  the  third.  Yet 
numerous  as  were  the  applications  of  cities,  the  immense 
multitude  of  statues  could  not  be  accounted  for,  unless 
the  piety  and  the  vanity  of  individuals  had  come  to  their 
assistance. 

The  first  assisted  by  the  votive  offerings  ;  of  which  all 
the  celebrated  temples  were  full.  These  were  by  no 
means  always  works   of  art,   but  quite    as  often    mere 

'  The  infinite  wealth  of  Greece  in  treasures  of  this  kind,  has  been  so  clearly 
exhibited  in  a  late  discourse  of  Jacobs,  that  it  has  now  become  easy  to  form  a 
distinct  idea  of  them.  Jacobs,  Uber  den  Reichthum  Griechenlands  an  plastischen 
Kunstwerken  und  die  Ursachen  desselben, 


332  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

costlj  presents.  Yet  the  collections  of  statues  and  pic- 
ttrres  which  belonged  to  those  temples,  consisted,  for  the 
most  part,  of  votive  offerings.^  But  these  were  as  often 
the  tribute  of  gratitude  from  whole  cities,  as  from  indivi^ 
duals.^ 

The  vanitj  of  individuals  contributed  to  the  same  end, 
by  the  custom  of  erecting  statues,  commonly  of  bronze, 
to  the  victors  in  the  games. ^  When  we  remember  the 
multitude  of  these  games  in  Greece,  the  number  of  stat- 
ues will  become  intelligible  ;  especially  of  those  of  bronze, 
of  which  in  many  instances  more  than  one  cast  was 
made ;  as  the  native  cities  of  the  victors  would  hardly 
fail  in  this  manner  to  appropriate  to  themselves  the  fame 
of  their  citizens,  which  formed  so  much  a  subject  of 
pride. 

Painting,  from  its  very  nature,  seems  to  have  been 
more  designed  for  private  use.  Yet  in  the  age  of  Peri- 
cles, when  the  great  masters  in  this  art  appeared  in 
Athens,  it  was  hardly  less  publicly  applied  than  the  art 
of  sculpture.  It  was  in  the  public  porticos  and  temples, 
that  those  masters,  Polygnotus,  Micon,  and  others,  exhib- 
ited the  productions  of  their  genius."*  No  trace  is  to  be 
found  of  celebrated  private  pictures  in  those  times.^ 

'  Not  to  montion  Olympia  and  Delphi  again,  we  refer  to  the  tennple  of  Juno 
in  Samos,  Strab.  L.  xiv.  p.  43^,  of  Bacchus  at  Athens,  Paus  i.  20.  The  temple 
of  Diana  at  Ephesus  was  so  rich  in  works  of  art,  that  according  to  Plin.  xxxvi. 
14,  a  description  of  them  would  have  tilled  several  volumes. 

^  The  temples  received  such  presents  not  only  during  the  lifetime  of  the 
donors,  but  as  legacies.  A  remarkable  instance  of  this  is  found  in  the  will  of 
Conon,  who  left  5000  pieces  of  gold  (nrar)]Qc?)  for  that  purpose.     Lys.  Or.  Gr. 

V.  p.  c.;^9. 

^  See  the  passacre  in  Plinv,  xxxiv.  0.     His  remark  that  a  statue  was  erected  in 
honor  of  every  victor  at  Olympia,  seems  hardly  credible.     Cf  Paus   vi.  p.  452. 
^  See  Botiiger.     Ideen  zur  Archa3ologie  der  Mahlerey.     B.  i.  s.  274,  etc. 
^  It  is  true,  Andocides  reproached  Alcibiades,  in   his   oration  against  him,  of 


THE  ARTS  IN   CONNECTION   WITH  THE  STATE.         333 

Yet  portrait  painting  seems  peculiarly  to  belong  to 
private  life.  This  branch  of  the  art  was  certainly  culti- 
vated among  the  Greeks  ;  but  not  till  the  Macedonian 
age.  The  likenesses  of  celebrated  men  were  placed  in 
the  pictures  which  commemorated  their  actions  ;  as  that 
of  Miltiades  in  the  painting  of  the  battle  in  the  Pcecile, 
or  pictured  hall  in  Athens  ;  or  the  artists  found  a^lace 
for  themselves  or  their  mistresses  in  such  public  works.^ 
But,  properly  speaking,  portrait  painting,  as  such,  did 
not  flourish  till  the  times  of  Philip  and  Alexander ;  and 
was  first  practised  in  the  school  of  Apelles.^  When  pow- 
erful princes  arose,  curiosity  or  flattery  desired  to  possess 
their  likeness  ;  the  artists  were  most  sure  of  receiving 
compensation  for  such  labors ;  and  private  statues  as  well 
as  pictures  began  to  grow  common  ;  although  in  most 
cases  something  of  ideal  beauty  was  added  to  the  resem- 
blance.^ 

We  have  ventured  directly  to  assert,  that  the  arts  in 
their  flourishing  period   belonged   exclusively   to    public 

having  shut  up  a  painter,  who  was  painting  his  house;  Or.  Gr.  iv.  p.  119.  But 
this  was  not  the  way  to  obtain  a  fine  specimen  of  the  art.  Allusion  is  there 
made  to  the  painting  of  the  whole  house,  not  of  an  isolated  work  of  art;  and  we 
are  not  disposed  to  deny,  that  in  the  times  of  Alcibiades,  it  was  usual  to  decorate 
the  walls  with  paintings.  On  the  contrary,  this  was  then  very  common  ;  for 
the  very  painter  Archagathus  gives  as  liis  excuse,  that  he  had  already  contracted 
to  work  for  several  others.  But  these  common  paintings  are  not  to  be  compared 
with  those  in  the  temples  and  porticos;  which,  as  Bottiger  has  proved,  Ideen, 
&c.,  s  2H2,  were  painted,  not  on  the  walls,  but  on  wood. 

1  Polygnotus,  e.  g.  introduced  the  beautiful  Elpinice,  the  daughter  of  Miltia- 
des, as  Laodice.     Piut  iii    p.  178. 

2  This  appears  from  the  accounts  in  Plin.  xxxv.  xxxvi.  12,  «!tc. 

3  A  confirmation,  perhaps  a  more  correct  statement  of  these  remarks,  is  ex- 
pected by  every  friend  of  the  arts  of  antiquity  in  the  continuation  of  Bottiger's 
Ideen  zur  Geschichte  der  Mahlerey.  That  in  this  period  busts  of  individuals 
became  for  the  same  reason  so  much  more  numerous,  has  been  illustrated  by  the 
same  scholar  in  his  Andeutungen,  s.  183,  etc. 


334  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

life ;  and  were  not,  according  to  the  general  opinion, 
which  seems  to  have  been  silently  adopted,  divided  be- 
tween that  and  private  life.  Be  it  remembered,  this  is 
to  be  understood  only  of  works  of  art,  in  the  proper  sense 
of  the  expression  ;  that  is,  of  those  which  had  no  other 
object  but  to  be  works  of  art ;  of  statues,  therefore,  and 
pictures  ;  not  of  all  kinds  of  sculpture  and  painting. 
That  the  arts  connected  with  private  wants,  wer6  ap- 
plied to  objects  of  domestic  life,  to  articles  of  household 
furniture,  to  candelabra,  vases,  tapestry,  and  garments, 
will  be  denied  by  no  one,  who  is  acquainted  with  anti- 
quity. 

It  was  not  till  a  Lucullus,  a  Verres,  and  others  among 
the  Romans,  had  gratified  their  taste  as  amateurs,  that 
tlie  arts  were  introduced  into  private  life  ;  and  yet  even 
in  Rome  an  Agrippa  could  propose  to  restore  to  the  pub- 
lic all  the  treasures  of  the  arts,  which  lay  buried  in  the 
villas.^  We  should  not  therefore  be  astonished,  if  under 
such  circumstances  the  ancient  destination  of  arts  among 
the  Greeks  should  have  been  changed,  and  they  should 
have  so  far  degenerated  as  to  become  the  means  of  grati- 
fying the  luxury  of  individuals.  And  yet  this  never  took 
])lace.  This  can  be  proved  as  well  of  the  mother  coun- 
try, as  of  the  riclicst  of  the  colonies. 

Pausanias  in  the  second  century  after  the  Christian 
era,  travelled  through  all  Greece,  and  saw  and  described 
all  the  works  of  art  which  existed  there.  And  yet  I 
know  of  no  one  instance  in  all  Pausanias  of  a  work  of 
art  belonging  to  a  private  man  ;  much  less  of  whole  col- 
lections.    Every  thing  was  in  his  day,  as  before,  public 

'  Plin.  XXXV.  cap.  ix. 


THE  ARTS   IN   CONNECTION   WITH   THE   STATE.      335 

in  the  temples,  porticos,  and  squares.  If  private  persons 
had  possessed  works  of  art,  who  would  have  prevented 
his  describing:  them? 

Verres  plundered  Sicily  of  its  treasures  in  the  arts, 
wherever  he  could  find  them  ;  and  his  accusers  will 
hardly  be  suspected  of  having  concealed  any  thing.  But 
in  this  accusation,  with  one  single  exception,^  none  but 
public  works  of  art  are  mentioned.  What  shall  we  infer 
from  this,  but  that  no  considerable  productions  of  the 
fine  arts  were  possessed  by  private  persons  in  Sicily  ? 

So  deeply  therefore  was  the  idea  fixed  among  the 
Greeks,  that  the  works  of  the  artists  were  public,  that  it 
could  not  be  eradicated  even  by  the  profanations  of  the 
Romans.  And  this  is  the  chief  cause  of  their  flourishing. 
They  thus  fulfilled  their  destiny  ;  belonging,  not  to  indi- 
viduals, but  to  cultivated  humanity.  They  should  consti- 
tute a  common  property.  Even  in  our  times,  when  indi- 
viduals are  permitted  to  possess  them,  censure  is  incurred 
if  others  are  not  allowed  to  enjoy  them.  But  even  where 
this  privilege  is  conceded,  it  is  not  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence, whether  an  individual  or  the  nation  is  the  possessor. 
The  respect  shown  to  the  arts  by  the  nation  in  possessing 
their  productions,  confers  a  higher  value  on  their  labors. 
How-  much  more  honored  does  the  artist  feel,  how  much 
more  freely  does  he  breathe,  when  he  knows  that  he  is 
exerting  himself  for  a  nation,  which  will  esteem  its  glory 
increased  by  his  works,  instead  of  toiling  for  the  money 
and  the  caprices  of  individuals  ? 

'  Namely,  fhc  four  statues  which  he  took  from  Heius.  Cic.  in  Vcrrem  ii.  iv.  2. 
Yet  they  stood  in  a  chapel  (sacrarium),  and  were  therefore  in  a  certain  measure 
l)ubr!C.  The  name  of  Heius  seems,  however,  to  betray  that  the  family  was  not 
of  Grecian  orin-in.  But  what  does  one  such  exception,  and  in  such  an  age,  prove 
respecting  an  earlier  period  ? 


336  CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  arts  in  Greece.  When 
emulation  arose  among  the  cities  to  be  distinguished  by 
possessing  works  of  art,  a  field  was  opened  for  a  Phidias 
and  Polygnotus,  for  a  Praxiteles  and  Parrhasius.  They 
were  better  rewarded  by  glory  than  by  money  ;  some  of 
them  never  worked  for  pay.^  Need  we  then  add  any 
further  remarks  to  explain  why  the  fine  arts  declined  with 
liberty?  Philip  and  Alexander  still  saw  a  Lysippus.and 
an  Apelles  ;  but  with  them  ends  the  series  of  creative 
minds,  such  as  no  other  nation  has  ever  produced. 

But  the  taste  of  the  nation  for  the  arts  and  their  pro- 
ductions, did  not  end  with  those  artists.  They  had  taken 
too  good  care  to  perpetuate  that  fondness.  When  the 
Grecians  had  lost  almost  every  thing  els(^,  \hey  were  still 
proad  of  tlieir  works  of  art.  This  excited  even  in  the 
Romans  respect  and  admiration.  "  These  works  of  art, 
these  statues,  these  pictures,"  says  Cicero,^  "  delight  the 
Greeks  bejond  every  thing.  From  their  complaints^  you 
may  learn,  that  that  is  most  bitter  to  tiiem,  which  to  us 
ap{)ears  j)erhaps  trivial  and  easy  to  be  borne.  Of  all  acts 
of  oppression  and  injustice,  whicJi  foreigners  and  allies  in 
these   times  have  been  obliged  o     endure,  nothing  has 

'  Polyirn  4ns  jiaiiited  the  Poccilc  for  notliing  ;  Zciixis,  in  the  last  part  of  his 
life,  wouUl  rccf'ivo  no  pa}'  for  his  pictures,  but  g.wt'  them  away.  Phn.  xxxv.  30. 
I'lius  a  parliiil  answer  is  given  to  the  question,  liow  tiie  cities  could  support  the 
great  ('X])ense  for  works  of  art.  Besides,  in  Greece  as  in  Italy,  the  works  of  the 
great  niast(M-s  did  not  become  dear  till  after  their  death.  The  little  which  we 
know  of  llieir  personal  condition  and  circumstances,  represents  them  for  the 
most  jNut  as  men  of  fine  feelings  and  good  fellowship,  who,  like  the  divine 
]'a|)liacl  and  C'orregoio,  in  the  moments  sacred  to  mental  exertion,  raised  them- 
S(  Ivos  alx've  i'.iiiiian  nature,  but  otherwise  enjoyed  life  without  troubling  them- 
selves in\irh  nbiiut  money.  Phidins  tiir  all  his  masti  rpieces  did  not  rec:eive  a 
111, I J  !'-i!t  ;!:;  iKueh  ns  d'orulas  for  hi^  di  clamations. 

-  Cicero  in  "\  eri'eiu,  ii    iv.  5'.). 

'■'  Of  the  robberies  of  Verres. 


THE  ARTS  IN  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  STATE.      337 

been  more  hard  for  the  Grecians  to  bear,  than  this  plun- 
dering of  their  temples  and  cities  !  " 

We  have  thus  far  endeavored  to  consider  Greece  from 
all  the  points,  in  which  she  made  herself  glorious  as  a 
nation.  Who  is  it,  we  may  finally  ask,  that  conferred 
upon  her  her  immortality  ?  Was  it  her  generals  and  men 
of  power  alone ;  or  was  it  equally  her  sages,  her  poets, 
and  her  artists  ?  The  voice  of  ages  has  decided  ;  and 
posterity  justly  places  the  images  of  these  heroes  of  peace 
by  the  side  of  those  of  warriors  and  kings. ^ 

'  See  Visconti.  Iconographie  ancienne.  Paris,  1811. 


43 


338  CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


CAUSES  OF  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE. 

The  melancholy  task  of  explaining  the  causes  which 
led  to  the  fall  of  Greece,  has  been  facilitated  by  the  pre- 
ceding investigations.  Most  of  them  will  occur  to  the 
reader ;  we  have  only  to  illustrate  them  somewhat  more 
at  large,  and  arrange  them  in  a  manner  to  admit  of  being 
distinctly  comprehended  at  a  single  view.^ 

If  the  constitutions  of  the  individual  Grecian  states 
were  defective,  the  constitution  of  the  whole  Grecian 
system  was  still  more  so.  Though  geographically  united, 
they  cannot  be  said  to  have  formed  one  political  system. 
A  lasting  union  was  never  established  between  the  Gre- 
cian states  ;  and  a  transitory  and  very  imperfect  one  was 
effc^cted  only  in  times  of  danger,  as  in  the  Persian  wars. 

But  even  this  imperfect  union  was  productive  of  im- 
portant results.  The  league  which  was  then  established, 
produced  the  idea  of  the  supremacy  of  an  individual  state. 
It  has  already  been  shown,  in  what  manner  Athens 
managed  to  acquire  this  rank,  and  in  what  manner  that 
city  turned  it  to  advantage  ;  but  we  have  also  shown, 
that  a  partial   supremacy  alone  existed,  embracing  only 


'  See  Drumann's  carefully  written  History  of  the  Decline  of  the  Grecian 
States.  Berlin.  IH15.  To  have  occasioned  such  works  is  the  highest  pleasure  for 
the  author.  So  too  in  reference  to  the  thirteenth  chapter  I  may  cite,  Bekker"s 
Demosthenes  as  a  Statesman  and  Orator.  2  vols.  1815.  The  best  historical  and 
critical  introduction  to  the  study  of  Demosthenes. 


CAUSES  OF  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE.        339 

the  seaports  and  the  islands,  and  therefore  necessarily 
resting  for  its  support  on  the  dominion  of  the  seas  on 
each  side  of  Greece,  and  consequently  on  a  navy. 

This  was  a  result  of  the  political  relations  and  the 
nature  of  the  league.  But  the  consciousness  of  supe- 
riority excited  those  who  were  possessed  of  it  to  abuse 
it ;  and  the  allies  began  to  be  oppressed.  Athens,  hav- 
ing once  established  its  greatness  on  this  supremacy, 
would  not  renounce  it  when  the  ancient  motives  had 
ceased  to  operate  after  the  peace  with  the  Persians. 
Individual  states  attempted  to  reclaim  by  force  the  inde- 
pendence, which  was  not  voluntarily  conceded  to  them. 
This  led  to  wars  with  them  ;  and  hence  the  dominion  of 
the  sea  was  followed  by  all  the  other  evils,  of  which 
even  Isocrates  complains.^ 

The  chief  reason  of  this  internal  division  did  not  lie 
merely  in  vacillating  political  relations,  but  more  deeply 
in  the  difference  of  tribes.  There  was  a  gulf  between 
the  Dorian  and  Ionian,  which  never  could  be  filled  up  ; 
a  voluntary  union  of  the  two  for  any  length  of  time  was 
impossible.  Several  causes  may  be  mentioned,  as  bav- 
ins; contributed  to  render  this  division  incurable.  The 
tribes  were  divided  geographically.  In  the  mother  coun- 
try, the  Dorian  had  the  ascendency  in  the  Peloponnesus, 
the  Ionian  in  Attica,  Euboea,  and  many  of  the  islands. 
Their  dialects  were  different  ;  a  few  words  were  suffi- 
cient to  show  to  which  tribe  a  man  belonired.  The 
difference  in  manners  was  hardly  less  considerable,  espe- 
cially with  relation  to  the  female  sex,  which  among  the 
Dorians  participated  in  public  life  ;  while  amongst  the 

'  Isocrat.  de  Pace,  Op.  p.  176. 


340  CHAPTER   SIXTEENTH. 

lonians  it  was  limited  to  the  women's  apartments  within 
the  houses.  And  the  common  people  were  very  much 
influenced  by  the  circumstance,  that  the  festivals  cele- 
brated bj  the  two,  were  not  the  same. 

But  the  division  was  made  politically  incurable  by  the 
circumstance,  that  Sparta  was,  or  at  least  desired  to  be, 
considered  the  head  of  the  whole  Doric  tribe.  This 
state,  both  in  its  public  and  private  constitution,  was  in 
almost  every  respect  the  opposite  of  Athens.  As  the 
laws  of  Lycurgus  alone  were  valid  in  it,  the  other  Dorian 
cities  did  by  no  means  resemble  it ;  but  as  it  was  ambi- 
tious of  being  their  head,  its  influence  prevailed,  at  least 
in  the  mother  country.  But  that  influence  was  often 
extended  to  the  colonies ;  and  though  the  Persian  au- 
thority may  have  repressed  the  hatred  of  the  tribes  in 
Asia  Minor,  it  continued  with  the  greatest  acrimony  in 
Sicily.  In  the  war  of  the  Syracusans  against  the  Leon- 
tini,  the  Dorian  cities  were  on  the  side  of  the  former  ; 
the  Ionian  on  that  of  the  latter  ;  and  the  cities  of  Lower 
Italy  in  their  choice  of  sides  were  influenced  by  the  same 
circumstance.^ 

This  hatred,  preserved  and  inflamed  by  the  ambition, 
common  to  both,  of  obtaining  the  supremacy  over  Greece, 
was  finally  followed  by  that  great  civil  war,  which  we 
are  accustomed  to  call  the  Peloponnesian.  Of  nearly 
equal  duration,  it  was  to  Greece  what  the  thirty  years' 
war  was  to  Germany  f  without  having  been  terminated 
by  a  similar   peace.     As  it   was  a  revolutionary  war  in 

'  Thncjd.  iii.  86. 

"  It  lasted  from  the  year  431  till  the  year  404,  when  it  was  terminated  by  the 

lakmcr  of  Athens. 


CAUSES  OF  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE.        431 

the  true  sense  of  the  expression,  it  had  all  the  conse- 
quences attendant  on  such  a  war.  The  spirit  of  faction 
was  enabled  to  strike  such  deep  root,  that  it  never  more 
could  be  eradicated  ;  and  the  abuse  which  Sparta  made  of 
her  forced  supremacy,  was  fitted  to  supply  it  with  con- 
tinual nourishment.  Who  has  described  this  with  more 
truth  or  accuracy  than  Thucydides  ?  "  By  this  war," 
says  he,^  "all  Hellas  was  set  in  motion  ;  for  on  all  sides 
dissensions  prevailed  between  the  popular  party  and  the 
nobles.  The  former  desired  to  invite  the  Athenians  ; 
the  latter  the  Lacedemonians.  The  cities  were  shaken 
by  sedition  ;  and  where  this  broke  out  at  a  less  early 
period,  greater  excesses  were  attempted  than  any  which 
had  elsewhere  taken  place.  Even  the  significations  of 
words  were  changed.  Mad  rashness  was  called  disin- 
terested courage  ;  prudent  delay,  timidity.  Whoever 
was  violent,  was  held  worthy  of  confidence  ;  whoever 
opposed  violence,  was  suspected.  The  crafty  was  called 
intelligent  ;  the  more  crafty,  still  more  intelligent.  In 
short,  praise  was  given  to  him  who  anticipated  another 
in  injustice  ;  and  to  him  who  encouraged  to  crime  one 
who  himself  had  never  thought  of  it." 

From  the  words  of  the  historian,  the  effect  of  these 
revolutions  on  morals  is  ap])arent ;  and  yet  no  states 
rested  so  much  on  morals  as  the  Grt^cian.  For  were 
they  not  communities  which  governed  themselves?  Did 
not  the  laws  enter  most  dee])ly  into  private  life  ?  and 
was  not  anarchy  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  moral 
corruption?  This  was  soon  felt  in  Athens.  Throughout 
the  whole  of  Aristophanes,  we  see  the  contrast  between 

'  Tliucyd.  iii.  82.     We   have  selected  only  a  few   remarks    from   a  passage 
written  for  all  succeeding  centuries 


342  CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 

the  better  times  that  were  gone  hj,  and  the  new,  in  all 
parts  of  public  and  domestic  life  ;  in  poetry,  in  eloquence, 
in  education,  in  the  courts  of  justice,  &c. ;  and  finally 
in  a  celebrated  dialogue,  the  ancient  and  the  modern 
customs  are  introduced,  disputing  upon  the  stage.'  And 
who  can  read  the  orators  without  being  astonished  at  the 
incredible  corruption  of  morals  ? 

This  leads  us  to  a  kindred  topic,  the  desecration  of  the 
popular  religion.  The  careful  student  of  the  history  of 
the  Grecian  nation  will  observe  this  increase,  as  he  ap- 
proaches the  age  of  Philip  ;  and  though  other  causes  may 
have  had  some  influence,  we  can  only  thus  explain  the 
origin  of  a  religious  war  like  the  Phocian.  The  causes 
which  produced  the  decay  of  the  popular  religion,  may 
for  the  most  part  be  found  in  a  former  chapter.  It 
would  be  useless  to  attempt  to  deny,  that  the  specula- 
tions of  the  philosophers  had  a  great  share  in  it ;  al- 
though the  better  part  of  them  were  strenuous  to  prevent 
such  a  result.  Aristophanes  was  certainly  unjust  in  at- 
tributing such  designs  to  Socrates,  but  he  was  right  in 
attributing  it  to  pliilosophy  in  general.  The  question 
now  arises  :  On  which  side  lies  the  blame  ?  On  that  of 
philosophy,  or  of  the  popular  religion  ?  It  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  answer  this  question  after  what  we  have  already 
remarked  of  the  latter.  A  nation  with  a  religion  like 
that  of  the  Greeks,  must  either  refrain  from  philosophical 
inquiries,  or  learn  from  pliilosophy  that  its  religion  is 
uiifounded.  This  result  cannot  be  urged  against  the 
philosophers  as  a  crime,  but  only  a  want  of  prudence,  of 
which  they  were  guilty  in  promulgating  their  positions. 

'  The  /toyoi  Sixaioi  and  adixoi  in  the  Clouds. 


CAUSES  OF  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE.        343 

The  care  taken  by  the  best  of  them  in  this  respect,  has 
already  been  mentioned  ;  and  that  the  state  was  not  in- 
different to  the  practice  of  the  rest,  is  proved  by  the 
punishments  which  were  inflicted  on  many  of  them. 
But  though  the  systems  of  the  philosophers  were  re- 
stricted to  the  schools,  a  multitude  of  philosophic  views 
were  extended,  which  to  a  certain  degree  were  adopted 
by  the  common  people.  In  Athens,  the  comedians  con- 
tributed to  this  end ;  for  whether  with  or  without  design, 
they  extended  the  doctrines  which  they  ridiculed. 

The  most  melancholy  proof  of  the  decay  of  religious 
feeling,  is  found  in  the  Phocian  war  and  the  manner  in 
which  that  war  was  conducted.  In  the  time  of  Thucyd- 
ides,  Delphi  and  its  oracle  were  still  revered;^  although 
the  Spartans  began  even  then  to  doubt  its  claims  to  con- 
fidence.^ When  all  the  former  relations  of  the  states 
were  dissolved  by  the  Peloponnesian  war  and  its  conse- 
quences, those  toward  the  gods  were  also  destroyed  ;  and 
the  crimes  conniiitted  against  them,  brought  on  their 
own  jjunishment  in  a  new  civi!  war  and  the  downfall  of 
liberty.  The  treasures  stolen  from  Delphi,  with  which 
the  war  w  as  carried  on,  suddenly  increased  the  mass  of 
species  current  in  Greece  to  an  unheard  of  degree ; 
but  increased  in  an  equal  degree  luxury,  and  the  wants  of 
life.^  And  if  any  portion  of  the  ancient  spirit  remained, 
it  was  destroyed  by  the  custom  of  employing  mercenary 
soldiers,  a  custom,  which  became  every  day  more  com- 
mon, and  gave  a  deadly  chill  to  valor  and  patriotism. 

Thus  the  evils  of  which  the  superior  policy  of  a  neigh- 
bor knew  how  to  take  advantage,  w  ere  the  result  of  de- 

•  Thucjd.  V.  32.  '  Thucyd.  v.  IG. 

'  See  a  leading  passage  on  this  topic,  in  Athen.  iv.  p.  231. 


344  CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 

fects  in  the  political  constitution  ;  in  that  very  constitu- 
tion, but  for  which  the  glorious  fruits  of  Grecian  liberty, 
never  could  have  ripened.  But  amidst  all  the  disorder, 
and  all  the  losses,  not  every  thing  perished.  The  na- 
tional spirit,  though  it  could  hardly  have  been  expected, 
still  remained,  and  with  it  the  hope  of  better  times. 
Amidst  all  their  wars  with  one  another,  the  Greeks  never 
ceased  to  consider  themselves  as  one  nation.  The  idea 
of  one  day  assuming  that  character  animated  the  best  of 
them.  It  is  an  idea  which  is  expressed  in  almost  every 
one  of  the  writings  of  the  pure  Isocrates  ;^  and  which  he 
could  not  survive,  when  after  the  battle  of  Chaeronea,  the 
spirit  of  the  eloquent  old  man  voluntarily  escaped  from  its 
earthly  veil,  beneath  which  it  had  passed  a  hundred  years. 
Yet  the  echo  of  his  wishes,  his  prayers,  and  his  instruc- 
tions did  not  die  away.  The  last  of  the  Greeks  had  not 
yet  appeared  ;  and  the  times  were  to  come,  when,  in  the 
Achaean  league,  the  splendid  day  of  the  greatness  of 
Hellas  was  to  be  followed  by  a  still  more  splendid  even- 
ing. So  certain  is  it,  that  a  nation  is  never  deserted  by 
destiny,  so  long  as  it  does  not  desert  itself. 

'  See  especially  Panathen.  Op.  235. 


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